Finding the True Gift
by Golden Wind
Summary: A male Yautja, orphaned as a baby when his clan's ship crash lands on Earth, is raised by an ooman family. This Yautja has come to know one of the greatest languages in the universe...music. But when a Hunter finds the young Yautja, he doesn't approve.
1. Prologue

_Hey everyone! This is my other fan fic I've been talking about. It just couldn't stay on paper anymore! I finally found the time to get this on the computer! I really hope you enjoy this story!_

**Finding the True Gift**

Against an infinite blackness that no intelligent creature could measure, tiny stars twinkled like sparks from a flickering fire and moved slowly by a large window, making the unfriendly darkness more enjoyable to look at. Behind the air tight window, a humanoid creature with light yellow skin, black and brown birth marks decorating it's huge oval forehead, thick muscled arms, thighs, and cheeks. Four, crab–like mandibles clicked together as a quiet purr came out from the it's small sharp toothed mouth. The veil the creature wore over its' large chest and the ankle length loin cloth that hung around the finely defined curves of its' waist, suggested that the humanoid was a female. She was sitting comfortably in a heavily cushioned chair, gazing intently stars while she played with her extremely long black braids, each adorned with strings of coloured beads and silver rings. The female sighed as she shifted in her chair, continually watching the twinkling lights that passed by, occasionally seeing the dusty remains of a star or the faint glow of a nebula.

A small cry at the other end of the dimly lit room snapped her out of her daydream. She rolled her golden eyes and curled her mandibles to a grin. The female stood to her nine foot height and walked across the metal floor to a moving bundle of blankets in a makeshift crib. A tiny, chubby hand popped out from the blankets and shook wildly; a croaking growl reached the female's sensitive ears. Her grin became wider a she knelt down and ever so gently, picked up the bundle with her muscular arms and sharp taloned hands. She pulled part of the blanket off her son's face and rubbed the little baby's forehead with a tender finger. Upon feeling his mother's touch and smelling her familiar musk, did he quiet down, and look up at her with big red eyes. The tiny tusks of his mandibles move clumsily as he turned his head, showing tiny strands of hair that was just beginning to grow. The little babe opened and closed his little toothless mouth like a fish. The mother smiled again, knowing exactly what he wanted. Shifting her son to one arm she used her free one to unclip the strap of her top and expose her swollen breast. She pressed her baby to it and he immediately began to suck the sweet milk. The female purred and thumped her son's back as she stepped out of the room.

As she walked down the long corridor of the ship, she could hear the low hum of the ships engines and felt their vibration through her sandalled feet. The female came to a silver door on her left, tapped a combination on a pad and the door opened with a hiss. Fog pooled out of the room, swirling around the mother's feet and she could feel a slight drop in temperature. Inside the room nine were sleeping pods placed vertically beside each other along the left wall. Through the mother's heat vision she could see the warm bodies of eight large Yautja, sleeping peacefully. On each end of the pod a little screen beeped and flashed an alien text, carefully monitoring the bodies. The mother travelled to the pod at the far end and looked down lovingly at the strong, handsome male sleeping inside it. Once in a while his eyes twitched and his mandibles fluttered. She caressed a clawed finger over the glass and peered down at her still suckling son. 'Yes, he does look exactly like his father,' she thought. He had the same facial features, the same red tint in his dark yellow skin and the same single diamond pattern in the middle of his forehead. The freckles on his cheeks, arms and thighs were inherited from his mother. Although she could not figure out where he got his red eyes from; it was a rarity to have red eyes in her family line. Of course, they could have easily come from his father's line. She peered over the clan she was leading, then at the empty pod beside her mate and sighed. How she wished to join in their slumber and not have to wait another week until they arrived on their home planet. But putting a newborn in a sleeping pod is extremely dangerous.

Her clan of blooded warriors had been hunting and living in space for countless months. During that time she became pregnant with her son and was forbidden to hunt in her state. Disappointed as she was, she knew it was necessary for her child to survive, and to continue her and her mate's strong blood lines. The clan had planned to land on their home world before the birthing, but the baby was born a week early. Thankfully there were no complications and from the full throaty wail her son at uttered when he took his first breath, she knew he was destined for greatness.

Sighing, the female leader stepped out of the room and shut the door. The infant had fallen asleep and the mother was able to cover herself again. She brought the little one close to her and she clicked and purred soothingly as she gently rubbed her mandibles across her son's face. He snuggled closer to his mother and slept even deeper. The female swelled with pride and joy, she wished sh could stay like this forever.

Suddenly the ship jerked widely and threw the female off her feet. She twisted in the air and landed on her side, holding her child protectively. An alarm blared loudly in the corridor and a red light flashed with urgency. The baby in her arms wailed from being awoken by the loud sound and sudden movement. The female's eyes widened with shock as he got to her feet. A bang echoed and shuddered the walls, causing the ship to thrash again, but the female's firm grip on the wall kept her from falling over. She ran to the control room with her screaming child and slammed on a large button on a circular panel. A holographic image of the ship hovered over the panel and red writing blinked around two areas on the image. The leader gasped when she saw the two main engines torn to pieces, spilling fuel. She tapped another button and the shield covering the control room window snapped open. Thick chunks of asteroids zipped over and under the ship. The newborn in her arms wailed louder and the mother held him close as she moved along the panel; there was no way she was putting him down for a second! The ship teetered again as the female punched a combination of buttons and switches to try and gain control of the torn ship; nothing responded! She roared in frustration and slammed a huge fist on the panel, sparks flying from the impact. The female yelped when she saw an asteroid head straight for the ship! The space rock hit the cruiser on the left side and sent the ship spinning, throwing the warrior into the air. She slammed head first into the jagged ceiling and dropped hard on her back, still clutching the babe protectively in her huge arms. Florescent blood poured from a deep wound on her skull and dripped onto the floor.

The week old child cried out when he couldn't feel his mother move. He struggled in her tight grip, clawing desperately at her chest. The red lights flashed more urgently, almost becoming a blur and the blaring alarm became louder. The female warrior's eyes snapped open and a throbbing pain radiated through her head; the flashing lights and alarm made the pain even worse. She ignored her agony and forced herself to stand, using the panel for support. Trying to focus her blurry vision and wiping blood from her eyes, she saw the ship head for a massive back water planet. There would be no time to head for the escape pods; besides that, it would be cowardly to abandon her mate and clan. She ducked under the control panel and curled into a ball, wrapping her arms and legs over her wailing son. She clicked and purred in the baby's ear and braced herself as she felt the ship shudder upon entering the atmosphere of the planet. The female made herself smaller and prayed to the gods that the ship wouldn't fall apart.

The ship fell like an enormous spark against the clear night, flames licking the hull and stern. The torn cruiser flew over tall, frosted fir trees, narrowly missing their dry tops until it finally crashed into a partially frozen lake with a loud splash. The ship skidded on the surface until friction caused it to slow down and stop. The space ship hissed and bubbled as it rocked on the water. Freezing water poured into the interior, drenching the mother and child. The females dull senses were momentarily woken up by the cold water and she crawled out from under the protection of the panel. She forced her weak body to head for the escape hatch. Another desperate cry came from the infant and the mother looked at her son before tightening the blanket and covering his tiny head. She did not care about her own life or anyone else, she only cared for her child. Her son was going to live at any cost! The clan leader made it to the escape hatch, already the cold water was at her knees. Wiping away more blood from her head wound, she punched a button, took a deep breath and held her child close as the hatch opened and freezing water poured in...

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > 

"Alison! Mommy and daddy are home!" the five year old boy cried out as he jumped down from the chesterfield in front of a tall window. The sixteen year old Cree girl looked up from a Teen People magazine and saw nose and hand prints left on the glass by the small boy. The roar of a quad and the flashing of head lights could be heard and seen in the dark forest. The brown haired boy ran to the front door in his Star Wars pyjamas and fumbled in the closet for his winter boots. Alison put down her magazine and went after the boy, her long black hair flowing.

"Nicki you little brat, get back here!"

But Nicki, with his boots on and coat half done up, opened the door and was gone in a flash. He ran down the white painted veranda, jumped over the two steps and onto the frost bitten gravel, his boot laces and woolen idiot mittens trailing behind him.

Two red Honda quads emerged from the trail in the forest and rolled to a stop on the gravel driveway. One quad had two passengers while the other carried one. The single passenger turned off the motor and took off his thick mitts, slipped off his large toque, untied the scarf around his mouth and ruffled his curly hair. He was in his late thirties, but his thick beard grew on his round face made him look older. His cheeks were red and rosy from the cold and he adjusted the large skidoo jacket around his big frame. On the second quad was a smaller built man, who seemed to be in his mid twenties and was wearing a huge winter jacket, skidoo mitts and boots. A black moustache grew under his nose, the ends and corners frosted from condensation. He got off the machine to help his companion, who by comparison, was shorter and more elegantly curved. Long red hair poked out from under the collar of her coat and scarf. She was also in her mid twenties and the bulge on her abdomen showing through her coat, suggested she was seven months pregnant. As they settled on the ground and conversed quietly to each other, their breath could be seen in white puffs of vapour.

"Mommy! Daddy!" Nicki cried happily.

The three heads whipped to the boys direction. The large bearded man shook his head and laughed.

"Look out, it's the terror of the night!"

"Nicolas!" gasped the woman, "What are you doing up?"

Nicki slammed into his mother, causing a grunt to come out. He patted her belly.

"I wanned to say goo' night to the baby!" he said with a smile.

"The baby's asleep, like you should be munchkin."

The young woman looked up to see Alison huffing up to them, her open coat jumping with her movement. She shrugged.

"He woke up about a half and hour ago and wouldn't go back to sleep until you came home."

Every one chucked.

"That little 'un is a night owl, like you Jack!" said the bearded man.

Jack shook his head, "Uh-uh Daniel, my son has your night owl attitude. He's got my brains!"

Daniel gave his younger brother a friendly cuff on the shoulder, "Well, an evolved form maybe."

Everyone laughed as the woman bent down and fumbled with Nicki's jacket, "Zip up honey, you're going to catch cold," she looked up at Alison while she slipped Nick's mitts over his small hands, "how much do I owe you Alison."

The aboriginal teen looked up in thought, her deep brown eyes sparkling like the stars, "Um, you left at eight and were gone for four hours, so tha'd be fourteen dollars."

The red haired woman nodded as she took her sons hand, "Come on everyone, it's freezing out and I need to get this one to bed."

The crowd began to walk to the house and Alison pulled her coat closer to her body.

"So how was the dinner Annie?" she asked.

Annie shrugged and smiled, resting a hand on her stomach, "It would have been more enjoyable if the baby didn't kick so much–"

She was interrupted by her son's excited cry.

"Mommy, look it! Look it!"

His hand was pointed to the sky and everyone raised their heads to see a bright ball moving against the dark sky.

"Everyone make a wish!" exclaimed the boy as he scrunched his eyes and clenched his fists in hard thought.

Daniel whistled in amazement," I've never seen one so big an' bright."

Jack eyed it suspiciously," I don't know. I don't think that's a meteorite."

"What do you mean?" asked his brother.

"Well it's not moving like a meteorite. We should be seeing an explosion and bright colours."

"A comet?" suggested Alison.

Jack shook his head, "No, comets don't move that fast," his eyes widened and he gasped, "and they certainly don't get bigger!"

The flaming object in the sky was indeed getting larger as it came closer to the earth. A deafening rumble filled the air as the bright object sped over the house and startled family and landed with what sounded like a loud splash and bang. Night and day birds cried out and took to the sky as a rough wind blew through the forest. The family stood dumbstruck, their breath coming out in rapid puffs. Nicki took his hands off his ears and clung to his mother.

"Mommy, what wuz that!" he cried.

"I don't know munchkin," she said, keeping her voice calm.

"It sounded like it landed in the lake," said Alison.

Jack fingered his moustache thoughtfully, "We should probably check it out."

"Do you think that's a good idea?" asked Daniel.

The short man sighed, "If we don't others will, I'm sure that thing could be seen clear into town."

Annie nodded, "Alright, we'll have a look. Are the flashlights still in the quad's took box? Good. Alison could you please take Nicki inside?"

"Yeah sure, " Alison picked up the small boy and set him on her hip, "C'mon munchkin."

The sixteen year old and five year old headed back to the safety of the house while the adults searched for the flashlights.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > 

The female Yautja burst through the freezing water of the lake. Never in her life had she experienced this kind of cold. She kept her baby's head above the water as she drove herself to swim to shore. She clambered onto dry land and flopped on the ground heavily, weak, exhausted and cold. Shivering violently she turned her head and watch as the lights of her ship slowly disappear into the depths of the black lake. There would be no hope her mate or clan, but this was no a time to mourn. Fighting to stay conscious the mother warrior pulled back the wet blanket covering her son's head. He squirmed and whimpered when he felt the icy bite of the air, but he was unharmed. The female held him close to her body, trying to shield him from the cold as she put a hand down to get up. But her whole body was too numb with cold to respond and she was quickly losing strength as her head wound continued to bleed. She growled in anger as she forced her weak body to move away from the waters edge. She collapsed on the rooted ground panting, her breath coming out in thick clouds of vapour. She then stopped shivering as more of her precious heat dissipated. The baby clawed at her chest and she wrapped her muscular arms around him. The mother again fought to stay awake, falling asleep meant dying and she was not willing to relinquish her spirit until her child was safe. Suddenly she heard voices.

"Annie you're in no condition to go out like this," said a low, bass voice.

"Jack, please stop worrying. I know this forest like the back of my hand," answered a higher voice.

'Oomans,' thought the female. From the sound of their footsteps, they were close. The female grunted as she dug her claws into a tree and strained to sit up. Through the freezing night she saw the heat signatures of three humans. The two bigger ones were undoubtedly male, but the third she realised was female. The clan leader looked at her baby, then back to the oomans. She had to get their attention. Wiping away more blood and putting her weight against the tree, she agonisingly pushed herself up, but only got half way when her knees buckled and her vision started to spin. The mother thumped to the ground and the baby uttered a muffled cry.

"What was that?" asked Annie, pointing her flashlight to the sound.

Daniel shrugged, "It was probably a fox."

The red head shook her head, "No, foxes don't sound like that."

She suddenly saw movement under the light and gasped, "I saw something."

Annie stepped around the thick firs and carefully picked her way over the rooted ground.

"Annie wait!" called Jack.

"Oh my God!" she cried.

"What? What is it?" shouted Daniel as he and his brother broke into a run. They both stopped on either side of her and saw Annie opened mouthed and wide eyed. She was pointing her flashlight at something. When the men followed her light, they too gasped at the strange yellow skinned figure lying on the ground with its back facing them.

"What the hell is that thing!" cried Daniel.

Annie shook her head, "Is it alive?"

She got her answer when the figure moved and growled. Jack stepped in front of his wife protectively.

"C'mon Annie, back away slowly."

"No wait," she shone her flashlight over the dread locked head of the creature, noticing the florescent blood, "I think it's hurt."

"That gives us more of a reason to leave," said Daniel, "there's nothing more dangerous that a wounded animal."

But Annie's maternal instinct and conscience told her to ignore the warning and help what ever was in front of them; she had a strong feeling this creature was more than just an animal. She broke from her husband's protection and cautiously stepped towards the huge wounded creature.

"Annie no!" hissed Jack.

She waved her hand, "Shhh."

Annie took another step on the uneven ground, her large boots digging into the earth as she expertly balanced herself with her load. She switched the flashlight to a lower setting and faced it down, feeling uneasy and intimidated when she saw just how large the creature was. Despite her feelings she continued to inch towards the creature. The Yautja moved and growl again.

"It's alright," the woman said soothingly, stretching one hand out as if to touch it, "it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. I just wanna help."

"Annie," Jack whined.

She waved for silence. She picked herself around the head of the creature and noticed the injury inflicted on it's oval skull. Annie's heart sank when she realised the wound was fatal. The female Yautja heard the ooman's footsteps and snapped her head up to look at her. Annie made a small cry and jumped back in fear and shock when she saw the alien's face for the first time. The warrior groaned, pushed herself up to a sitting position and leaned her back against the bark of a tree. It was then the expected woman noticed the bundle held tightly in the alien's arms. Daniel and Jack gasped when their flashlights showed what the creature looked like. The Yautja rumbled and squinted at the bright lights.

"Turn your flashlights down you two," Annie whispered.

She looked back at the wrapped bundle in the alien's arms and took a curious step toward it.

"Annie don't!" Jack clambered over the rocks and stood between the creature and his wife. She struggled to get around him.

"Jack no, please! It needs our help," she pointed at the Yautja, "look it's holding something."

The female strained to keep her eyes open and she stared at the female ooman's signature. Even though most of the ooman's body was covered with thick clothing, the warrior could still see the familiar swell in her belly. The dying mother raised a shaky right hand, pointed a single claw at the female and made a fluttering click. Annie's eyes widened, she pointed to herself.

"Me? You want me?"

The alien lowered her hand and purred. She glanced down at the bundle and rubbed her clawed hand over it. Annie saw the bundle move and she stepped around her husband when he grabbed her arm.

"No Annie," he hissed.

"Jack please it–" she glanced at the creature, "–she needs me."

He shook his head.

"Please Jack," she said with determination, "let me go to her."

He husband stared at her, then to the female creature who was still tending to what ever was in her arms. He shook his flashlight.

"If that thing lays a claw on you, I'll make it's passing easier."

Annie nodded her understanding and faced the female. She sat down on her knees in arms reach in front of the Yautja and waited. The dying mother's eyes were close to dimming when she took her hand away form the bundle. Annie could see that the creature was holding a small baby wrapped in a soaked blanket. The young woman felt a lump in her throat as a wave of sadness swept through her. The warrior used the rest of her strength the hold out her child towards the ooman. Annie looked startled.

"You...you want me to take your child?"

As if understanding, the mother clicked and nodded in response. Annie's eyes blurred with tears. Noticing ice on the blanket, Annie ripped of her coat and gently scooped the child from the mother's outstretched arms. The dying warrior's arms fell as Annie wrapped the half awake baby tighter in her warm jacket. She sniffed, a single tear escaped and rolled down her cheek as she looked at the mother one last time. She smiled and bowed, as the feelings of awe and respect for the mother rose inside her.

"I promise to take care of your child. Rest in peace."

Annie swore she thought the female alien smiled back. The Yautja's eyes dimmed and with a sigh, her head lulled forward and her spirit was released to the Black Warrior. Another tear turned cold from the air as it fell down Annie's face. She rocked the baby back and forth, watching the new born lazily move his mandibles and open his eyes to look up at her. For a moment everything was still and peaceful, save for the chilled breeze that made the trees sway and pick at Annie's long hair. Jack's winter boots crunched on the forest floor as he stepped beside her and rubbed her shoulders, sighing.

"That was very brave of you Annie. I'm proud of you."

Annie sniffed, her voice was caught in her throat, "She was brave too."

The young woman bounced the whimpering babe then looked over her shoulder to the lake.

"Jack, can you and Danny put her in the water?"

"What?" asked the shocked Daniel.

Annie stared as her husband with pleading eyes, "Please Jack, she can't be seen or found by anyone. She probably would have wanted it this way."

Jack stared at those watery eyes.

"Alright," he said, rubbing her arms. She was right, this alien had remain a secret. Which got him thinking about what to tell the locals when they came their way; but he can think about that later. He turned to his older sibling and he nodded, his eyes full of empathy.

"Alright we'll do it. But stay close okay."

She nodded as the two brothers went to the frozen body. The child in her arms let out a cry and she rocked him as she cooed at the small face.

"No, no little one, don't cry. You're safe now. You're going to be alright."

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > 

It was well past midnight when the adults came back to the house. Annie had gotten a new blanket to wrap the infant in and he was now sleeping peacefully in her arms. She moved back and forth in her rocking chair in the living while the two brothers sat on the chesterfield across from her. Not a word was spoken amongst the trio. All heads turned when they heard Alison's footsteps come down the stairs and into the living room.

"Nicki's in bed asleep," she informed.

Annie smiled, "Thank–you Alison, you're a wonder."

The Cree teen shrugged modestly, "Hey, glad I can help."

She looked over the young woman's shoulder and down to the snoozing alien.

"So, what are you going to name it?"

Annie stopped rocking, "He, not it."

"Okay, what'ya gonna call him?"

"Not Bambi I hope," chuckled Daniel.

Annie smiled and brushed back a lock of her red hair, "I'll name him...Morgan."

Jack stood up, "Why Morgan?"

His wife smiled, "It's a Gaelic name meaning 'man from the water's edge', or in this case alien."

Alison smiled and tenderly rubbed a finger over the baby's single diamond birth mark.

"Morgan, I like it. It suits him."

Jack walked to Annie and held out his arms, "May I?"

Annie grinned and gave the child to Jack. He held the infant like he did when Nicolas was born. The little one stirred, then went back to his dreams.

"Hello Morgan," Jack whispered, "welcome to the family."

_Whew! That was a long prologue, but I've do it! I don't know for sure if female Yautja breast feed their newborns or if they just have them for decoration. Either way I still wanted to create a strong bond between mother and child. So please readers tell me what you think of it so far!_

_I'll hopefully be able to get chapter 13 of 'Slave of a Hunter' up as soon as I can. But in the mean time I hope you enjoyed the beginning of this story!_


	2. Family Intro

_This was a challenge getting this chapter up. I've just finished three exams, one quiz and I still have to do a history essay and a Christian Ethics project. DAMN SCHOOL! Anyway I hope you enjoy!_

_**17 years later...**_

A pine cone dropped from the branches of a tall Scotch Pine and landed on the half snow covered ground. A brown bushy tailed squirrel climbed down head first along the bark, stopped at the base and jerked his head from left to right, his nose twitching. He took three hops, snatched the pine cone in his little paws and nibbled rapidly at the nut. A thumping noise came through the underbrush and the squirrel abruptly stopped eating. A small hiking boot burst out from the bushes and the tiny animal leapt out of the way before he was trampled. Two boys of age ten ran through the forest, one of them wearing a light green jacket, jeans and black hiking boots. His curly black hair stuck to his forehead and his brown eyes shone with apprehension. The boy behind him wore a black jacket, light jeans and grey hiking boots. His skin was tan coloured and his spiky black hair bounced over his honey eyes as he ran behind his comrade. The curly haired boy vaulted over a snow mound and landed on the rooted ground; he couldn't afford to leave any tracks. The boy jumped behind a moss covered boulder and his friend followed his example. Both of them leaned back on the rock, panting and gasping.

"Garret, di–did we lose him?" puffed the tanned boy as he wiped sweat of his brow.

"Shut–up Martin, he'll hear us!"

Garret pushed back his curls and tried to slow his breathing down. Although the blood was pounding in his ears, he still strained his hearing to listen to his surroundings. He could hear nothing unusual. His stomach tightened nervously, did they actually lose him? Garret moved to his knees, placed his hands on the rock and pushed himself up ever so slowly. Martin watched him rise and move his head in search for him. Suddenly Garret gasped and ducked.

"Crud! He saw me!"

Garret could see fear in his friend's eyes as he looked up at the boulder. There was a loud thud as something big and heavy landed on the ground. A rumbling growl hit the air. Martin's eyes widened and goose bumps rose on his skin, he was close! The spiky haired boy shifted to a crouch and looked at his comrade, keeping his voice to a low whisper.

"Garret you go on to the house, I'll distract him."

"No, I can't let you. We said we would finish this together."

Martin shook his head, "Go Garret, you're a faster runner than me. If one of us gets to the house we still win."

They could hear weighty footsteps approach them, getting closer and closer.

"You sure?" Garret whispered.

Martin nodded, "Oh yes, if I'm gonna go down I'd rather go fighting. But you had better remember this moment the next time we do this."

Garret smiled, admiring his friend's courage. Martin readied to jump.

"When I jump on him, run."

Garret shifted his feet for the romp and waited. With a high pitched yell, the tanned boy vaulted over the boulder. Garret bolted to the direction of the house as a surprised growl and roar echoed from behind. The curly haired boy did not look back. He promised himself he would repay his friend for his bravery and sacrifice. Garret's boots clomped on the uneven forest floor as he wove through the thick trees. He took in huge gulps of air, ignoring his stinging chest and aching legs. He soon found himself on the main path to the house when a loud snarl and the creak of branches reached his ears. A chill crawled up his spin, he was right behind him! Martin couldn't hold him back! Garret pushed himself to run faster, his panting coming out in whimpering gasps. He looked ahead to see the trees thin out and reveal the roof. He was almost there! A loud clunk came from behind him and Garret turned his head.

"No!" he cried, "no don't! I'm so close!"

A six foot, red and yellow skinned figure ran unbelievably fast at the boy and reached out to grab him. At the last second Garret grabbed the thin truck of a fir tree and made a sharp turn to the left. Caught off guard by the move in his unbalanced state, the creature yelped and fell forward, landing in the dirt with a painful thud. Garret took the advantage and jumped onto the broad back of the creature, causing a grunt to come out as he put weight in the creatures back. The boy laughed triumphantly as he went to pin the dread locked alien down, but his victory was short lived when the creature rolled and pushed the boy off. The two wrestled for a few more minutes until Garret had no strength left. He was flipped onto his back and the creature held his shoulders down. Garret looked up at the four mandible face and into his burning red eyes; a strong smell of musk and sweat reached his nose. The alien uttered a menacing half growl and click, his tusks rattling together as he lowered his face. Garret struggled in the alien's grip, shaking his head from side to side, knowing exactly what was coming. The creature was now only inches away from his forehead, breathing hot air on his face. The boy closed his eyes and tightened his jaw; there would be no escape.

"Just get it over with," he said through clenched teeth.

The alien gave him a soft head butt with his oval head. Within a second the creature took his weight off the boy and stood up with his hands on his hips, chest puffed out in pride.

"I win!" said the alien in a guttural voice.

Garret gazed up at his big brother; and he meant BIG. His brother of seventeen years easily towered over six feet and weighed over two hundred pounds on account of his muscled body. The thick hair that grew three inches below his shoulders was held back with a thick rubber band so it wouldn't get in the way when he was running. The boy couldn't figure out why his brother had such a huge body frame, he never once saw him work out–well he shouldn't say never. His sibling's favourite pass time was rock and tree climbing and that took a large amount of strength. However his immense size did cause some problems in finding him proper clothing to wear. Most of his clothes had to be ordered from cities in and outside the province. Today he wore a forest green coat, which matched his surroundings perfectly, grey sweat pants that looked snug around his thick legs and was covered in pine needles and soil and wore the largest hiking boots on his feet. Garret pushed himself up with a groan, feeling stiff and hot.

"I was so close Morgan, so close!"

Morgan smiled in such a way that would scare a child, something his younger sibling and family was use to seeing. He reached out with a taloned right hand.

"You're getting better Garret, that's the closest you've ever gotten to the house!"

He pulled up his brother up to his feet with little effort. Garret dusted the girt off his jacket and pants as best he could.

"With help from me!" protested a voice.

The two turned to see Martin jog up to them, his pants streaked with dirt and his coat unzipped so he could cool off.

"Er–ahem, yeah right," Garret said, looking away.

Morgan laughed and looked at the tanned boy, "Your stealth is improving Martin, you really surprised me! I didn't know if you were a human or an animal!"

Martin shrugged, causing dirt to fall off his jacket, "Eh, I learn from the best. And mom says playing Call of Duty is a waste of time."

Morgan chuckled as the three began to walk down the worn path.

"How long did it take you to find us this time?" the curly haired boy with a smug look on his face.

Morgan shrugged," It took me at least ten minutes to get back on your trail. That was a sneaky trick you two pulled."

The ten year olds grinned, feeling their accomplishment rise in their chest. They both knew Morgan had keener senses than they did, which always gave the boys a challenge to hide from him in the woods; especially when there was still snow on the ground since they also knew Morgan could see in heat. The game was basically like hide and sneak, Morgan would give Garret and Martin a thirty second head start to hide and the alien would try to catch them. The rule was if one of the boys made it to the house without getting caught, he would be declared the winner. So far, Martin and Garret haven't accomplished that feat.

This time the boys had created a plan to elude Morgan and hopefully give them a chance to win the game. They had made a long track of foot prints heading west in the snow, then turned south where the terrain was rocky. Morgan followed the footprints by leaping from tree to tree, until he came to the end of the trail and realised he had fallen for the trap. But luck was on his side when a gust of wind carried the boys' scent to him. Morgan's sense of smell was as sharp as a bloodhound and no one could escape from his nose.

The trio soon emerged from the forest and onto the gravel driveway. Snow thickly covered the black tiled roof and brownish–green moss grew on the sides of the dwelling, making it look more ancient. Paint was chipping from the veranda and there was a slight rot in the worn wood. An icy breeze blew through the trees and the younger boys sighed with relief at the cooling air but Morgan tensed his shoulders, wishing he had worn his toque. Despite the physical activity he endured, Morgan still felt the wind's uncomfortable bite. He hated the cold and could hardly bear the long winters of the north like his siblings. Their physician, doctor Grayeyes had said something about him not having as much body fat as humans. Which was why he rarely went outside during the winter and if he did, he would bundle up in heavy clothes and wouldn't stay out long.

Morgan sighed as he stepped onto the veranda, letting the smaller boys go ahead of him. He gazed longingly at the scene in front of him. 'What a beautiful Sunday afternoon,' he thought. The sun was high in the clear sky, melting snow hung heavily on the branches of the pine and fir trees and the first blades of grass were beginning to peak out from around the trees. Once in a while a Meadow Lark would sing and receive another song from different bird. He breathed in the crisp air and could sense a bit of humidity in atmosphere. Spring was coming around the corner. The season was coming rather early this year, but he didn't mind. Spring meant it was getting warmer and it allowed him to spend more time out in the wilderness he had come to love. Spring also promised the following of summer, when the days were hot and his family stayed home from work and school. He smiled, recalling the fun and happy memories of the camping and fishing trips he had taken with his whole family.

Morgan turned from the outdoors, brushed off and much filth as he could from his clothes and stepped inside the house where he saw Martin and Garret slipping off their outer wear. As he took off his jacket a teenage girl, with light green eyes and red hair that grew a few inches below her shoulders, looked around the corner from the living room. She brushed back her hair and revealed gold hoop earings pierced on each lobe.

"You three were out for a while. What were you doing?" she asked.

"What do yah think Lindsay?" asked Garret, "we were out playing Hunter."

The massive alien adjusted his sweater and looked at his sister, shaking his head. She was wearing a spaghetti strap top, black cotton pants that hung below her knees and wasn't wearing any socks. He couldn't understand why Lindsay wore something like that in this kind of weather. If she wanted to, she could wear a swimsuit when it was forty below out!

The teen shook her head, "Red, you know mom doesn't want you playing that game anymore. You're stronger than these two, one of these days you're gonna hurt them."

Red was a nickname he had inherited over the years on account of the red tint in his skin. Morgan smiled and shrugged, "Don't worry Linds we were careful. Besides, Uncle Danny says I need to be in tip top shape when we go hunting this summer!"

It was a tradition in their family for Daniel to take the children on a hunting trip when they turned seventeen. Danny wanted to take both Lindsay and Morgan, but Lindsay never liked guns and was not very good at handling them. She preferred to use the sling shot or bow and arrow. Lindsay cross her arms and looked at the three boys.

"Well, at least clean yourselves up before Nicki gets home. You guys dragged in half the forest with you."

Morgan beamed and his stomach fluttered with excitement. He had not seen Nicki since he left for university four years ago. Morgan idolized his older brother. He was the kind of sibling that could do anything. When Red was young, Nicki helped him with school work and chores as well as teaching him on how to catch a fish, steer a canoe and set up a tent. Since their father was away most of the time due to business, Nicki stepped in and passed on the knowledge to Morgan. But the alien had never felt more grateful to have a brother like Nicki, when he helped him speak for the first time. Morgan couldn't verbalize properly until he turned three, since his mandibles and tiny mouth didn't work the way a human mouth did; even his tongue had put a strain on his speech. Nicki came to the rescue and figured out ways to improve his talking. He had told Morgan to over exaggerate his mouth with b, m, f, p, v, and w words and to stretch out his mandibles on vowels. The method worked perfectly and before Morgan turned four, he was speaking the English language flawlessly.

"Is dad flying him in?" asked Garret.

"No Nicki will fly the plane, but dad will be with him," said the red head, "the field should be clear enough for him to land on. Nicki says he has a lot of stuff to bring over for Easter."

"Ya! More candy!" cried Garret as he turned to the kitchen. He fished three glasses from the cupboard and opened the fridge to get some lemonade. Martin kicked off his boots and ran to join his friend with Morgan behind him. He was suddenly held back when he felt his sister's hand grab his arm.

"Nicki phoned while you were out. He says he has a very special surprise for you."

Morgan felt excitement rise in his chest, "Oh, what is it?"

Lindsay backed away, shaking her hands, "I'm not tellin'."

The alien narrowed his eyes and gave a sly grin, "Why not?"

"Because it'll ruin the surprise!" Lindsay said cheerfully.

"If you tell me, I'll act surprised."

Lindsay shook her head and giggled. She absolutely loved to tease her brother like this.

"C'mon, don't make me beat it out of you," he playfully took her arm and brought her close. The girl twisted out of his grip and with the worst home boy accent, she waved her arms like a clumsy rapper.

"S'cuse me ma botha', I can whoop yo' ass any day!"

"Hey Lindsay said ass!" Martin shouted from the kitchen.

Morgan turned to the voice, "She was referring to a donkey Martin, not my posterior."

He turned back to see his sister had disappeared. He heard a snicker and looked to see Lindsay inching her way out of the room.

"Running from the heat of battle you coward?" he gave a trill and chased after his sibling. Lindsay squealed and ran through the living room, turned a sharp corner and bolted down the stairs to the basement. Morgan followed the heated footsteps on the wooden floor and flew down the stairs. He could feel the air become cooler as he descended and went past the light switch. He didn't need much light to see, besides the window near the ceiling allowed enough light into the basement so there was no need. Lindsay's red and orange heat signature stood out very easily against the dark stone walls. She was standing on the old chesterfield that was set in front of a large TV and an X–box consol. Some of the game controllers were attached to the consol and scattered on the floor. Lindsay held a throw pillow in her right hand making her look like a soldier who was guarding a fortress. Morgan grinned.

"You can tell me sis. Nicki doesn't have to know I know."

"No way Red, he'll know I let his secret. He's good that way."

Morgan leapt at the couch and Lindsay moved back from him, but not before giving her adopted brother a bat on the head with the pillow. She giggled as she ran to the other side. Martin and Garret bounded down the stairs with their glasses of lemonade and sat on the bottom to watch the siblings in action. Morgan circled to the right, trying to get his sister. He couldn't take this teasing anymore, the suspense was eating him up!

"Awe c'mon Linds, just give me hint," he whined.

The red head went to the left, keeping the furniture between her and the muscle bound alien, "Uh–uh."

Morgan turned left, pushing away some of the game controllers with his foot and Lindsay went in the opposite direction.

"Pretty please?"

"Nope."

The both ran around the couch once.

"Pretty please with sugar on top?"

"Tempting...but no!"

"That's it!"

Morgan vaulted over the middle of the couch and straight to Lindsay. She squealed and threw the pillow at her brother but missed. Morgan wrestled her to the carpet floor, making sure he didn't use all his strength to bring her down. The teen tried to push the alien off but it was like pushing a boulder. Morgan finally managed to pin her arms.

"Uncle?"

"No way!"

Lindsay put her knee into his gut and gave a quick shove. Morgan flipped to his back with a grunt but still kept his hold on his sister's arms. Lindsay laughed and struggled in his grip. She twisted her wrist, freeing on arm and got to her feet, but Morgan grabbed her ankle and Lindsay came down with a soft thud. The two boys left their glasses on the stairs and jumped up and down on the chesterfield as if it were a trampoline.

"Get her Morgan, get her!"

"Bring her down!"

"Show her who's boss!"

The older siblings continued to wrestle until Moran pinned her again.

"Had enough?"

"Never!" Lindsay was out of breath and close to tiring, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

"Alright, you forced me to use my secret weapon!"

The alien tickled her sides with his talons.

"Aha! No don't!"

Morgan grinned and tickled her side again.

"Ha–ha! No Morgan–ha ha! You're cheating! Ahahahahahahaha! Cheater!"

Red laughed along with her as he switched from tickling her waist to her stomach. Martin and Garret collapsed on the chesterfield in their own laughter as they watched the teens roll on the floor. Lindsay's sides began to hurt and tears started to roll from her eyes.

"Okay I give! Ha–ha! Mercy! Uncle!"

Morgan stopped and sat back on his heels, watching his sister quiver with her last giggles. Aside from Nicki, Morgan had a very close relationship with Lindsay. She was a little under five foot nine and had a strong athletic build, mostly from playing softball and volleyball, but also from her family's Scottish ancestry. Both of them were the same age, only Morgan was three months and a half months older. He admired his sister for her leadership qualities, her kindness and fairness towards others and her fearlessness. Lindsay was the kind of person who would stick up for others and not take any crap from anyone. But Morgan mostly adored her because she shared in his love of music. Lindsay could play the flute and was one of the best players in her class, if not the whole school. Of course when she was told this by her teachers or family, she wold blush and decline modestly.

Lindsay was not the only one in the family who could play a musical instrument. Nicki played the trumpet and continued when he left for university, Garret was just learning how to play the clarinet and Morgan could play the piano and the guitar. At first, when he turned eight, he wanted to try a mouth instrument. Morgan tried to play with Nicki's clarinet–before he switched to the trumpet–but since he didn't have lips, he could only cause a wheezing squeak to come out and ended up breaking the reed in half with his sharp teeth. After that he tried finger instruments. Red was first taught the piano my his mother and took to it right away. By the time he turned nine, he had completed four grade levels. At the same time his father began to teach him the guitar and just as fast as the piano, he was soon playing better than his father did at age ten. The alien could play bass and electric guitar and a bit of the violin, but his favourite guitar was the acoustic. He rarely used a pick since his talons provided good picks, however he did have to keep the talons on his left hand filed down so he could press the strings properly.

Lindsay sat up and Morgan grinned.

"You gonna tell me know?" he asked.

The red head looked up to the wood ceiling in thought, then turned to his mandible face.

"Nope," she said and ducked out of the way to avoid Morgan's friendly swing.

"You're such a jerk!" he groaned with a smile.

Lindsay smiled and stood up, straightening her clothes, "Naw, I'm just a sister."

She then turned to the boys on the couch, "Okay party's over you two. Mom and dad should be home in an hour with Nicki and you guys left quite a mess in the playroom before you went into the forest. C'mon up yah go, it needs to be cleaned."

Martin and Garret whined as they stepped off the couch and purposefully dragged their feet to the stairs. Lindsay rolled her eyes.

"C'mon you two! Get goin'! HUT! HUT! HUT!" she clapped her hands really loudly and stomped behind the younger boys. They jumped and dashed up the stairs, grabbing their glasses of lemonade as they did. Lindsay smiled in satisfaction and Morgan shook his head at her.

"How do you do that Linds? If I'd ask them to do that, they'd fool around the house until they drove me crazy."

The teen shrugged, "It's all about the voice. A direct, serious voice let's them know you mean business."

Morgan chuckled, "Ah, I could never be serious around those two."

Lindsay leaned on the railing and crossed her arms, "So how was that little romp in the woods?"

Morgan laughed, "They're getting better at that game. It took me a full half hour to catch them!"

"Wow! They are getting better. What was the record to catch them, ten minutes?"

"I think so, maybe five."

"Oh, you're _that_ good huh?" Lindsay smirked.

"Damn right I am!"

The teen giggled and looked up the stairs, trying to hear if the boys were doing their job, "Did your, uh...instinct come back?"

Morgan stopped breathing for a moment and stared at his sister. The question was spoken so suddenly that he was caught off guard.

"No," he said, keeping a straight face.

Lindsay cocked an eyebrow, "No?"

"No."

"Really?"

"Really, really," Morgan sighed, he hated it when his sibling asked him that question every time he played Hunter with Garret and Martin, "I promise sis, it hasn't come back since the attack. I thought you'd have forgotten that."

Lindsay lowered her eyebrows and raised her right arm, "I can't forget it Morgan, how could I?"

Morgan immediately felt ashamed for saying that and stared at her forearm. The deep, pick scar tissue still stood very clearly against her light skin. The alien looked away and Lindsay's expression softened. She knew he was thinking of the attack and she couldn't help but recollect it herself...

_I know, I'm mean. Cliffhanger and all. But I just love keeping my fans guessing! So can anyone guess what happened to Lindsay's arm? The winner will be recognised in the next chapter! I'll hopefully have another one up soon, after all my projects are done. Thanks for your reviews!_


	3. Recalling the Past

_Well my homework has calmed down some what! I had exams, projects and award ceremonies to go to...Speaking of which I recently received the "Crusader Shield" at the Social Awards Ceremony at my school, for being involved in over 8 activities throughout my high school year, won a bronze medal in Track and Field City Championships for javelin and was able to go to Provincials! Unfortunately I didn't make the top 8. My farthest throw was 26.31 m and the 8th place winner was 30 m. But it was a great experience non the less!_

_In my last chapter I asked if anyone could guess what happened to Lindsay's arm and I'd like to acknowledge **Bastet **and **Blackdawn** for sending me their guesses in their review. You two will have to read and see if you're right ;D!_

_On with the next chapter..._

_**It was a beautiful fall afternoon. The sun was shining in a clear sky and although there was a chill in the wind, the temperature was warm. Lindsay thought it had to be plus fifteen degrees out, such a rarity in August; a late winter was definitely coming. She breathed in crisp autumn air as she walked down the main path that circled her home. Looking up she saw the colours of red and orange beginning to show on the birch leaves. Lindsay only wore a fleece sweater, since it was so warm out, nylon pants and brown hiking boots. She looked over her shoulder to see Morgan, already wearing his winter jacket, fleece pants and hiking boots. Lindsay cocked an eyebrow.**_

"_**You sure you're not hot Red?"**_

_**Morgan raised his thick bridge over his eyes, "Trust me Linds, I perfect," he paused, "tell me why are we walkin' out here again?"**_

"_**To see if I can find some blueberries."**_

"_**You know the blueberries are long gone. Besides, there was a low count this year."**_

_**Lindsay shrugged, "Yeah I know, I just needed to get out of the house. Garret is getting on my nerves!"**_

_**Morgan nodded in agreement knowing the six year old had been pestering her all day with his nonstop pranks. He grinned when he remembered Garret scaring the living daylights out of his sister when she opened the door to her bedroom closet. He never knew Lindsay could jump that high! Morgan bunched up his shoulders and the girl glanced at him.**_

"_**Red if you're cold you can go back to the house."**_

"_**I'm not leaving you out here alone. Uncle Danny says that the bears are moving farther south to find food for the winter since they couldn't find enough blueberries. Dad told me he spotted three Black Bears at the dump the other day." **_

"_**Black Bears hardly ever come down this path and anyways you know how timid they are. If we keep talking like this they'll run away without a backwards glance."**_

"_**Still it's not a good idea to leave you alone."**_

_**The red head rolled her eyes and shook her head, continuing her steady pace. Morgan put his hands in his pockets and felt the outline of the hunting knife that hung around his waist, a gift from his uncle. He never knew why, but he felt more comfortable having weapon with him when he ventured into the woods; he never left the house without it. Morgan sniffed the air and caught a sharp odour. Lindsay was menstruating but he wasn't going to mention it. He knew his sister would become embarrassed if he told her he could smell her blood. The alien shivered again at the chilly air, damn he hated the autumn! He so dearly wished he could endure the weather like his sister. Lindsay smirked.**_

"_**You wanna race to the ridge?" she asked.**_

_**Morgan sighed, "Anything to get me warm."**_

"_**One–two–three, GO!"**_

_**Lindsay was off though the path, leaving Morgan behind.**_

"_**Hey you cheated!" he yelled as he went after her.**_

_**Lindsay laughed as she ran faster, knowing she had gained quite a distance from her brother. She rounded a corner when she saw something black in front of her. She stopped in her tracks when she realised what it was. A Black Bear, the biggest she had ever seen, was standing in her path. The five hundred pound bear pulled out his large nose from a bush and stared at the girl. Lindsay stood absolutely still, trying to hold down the urge to run. The young teen flinched slightly when she saw the large animal rear up on his hind legs and sniff the air; he caught the scent of blood. The Black Bear landed on his front paws, lowered his head below his shoulders and made a chomping noise. Lindsay took care not to make eye contact with the animal as she slowly backed away, she knew the bear was agitated. Lindsay didn't make any sudden movements to provoke the creature further as she continued to stride back. The Black Bear stood still for a moment, but he couldn't ignore the smell of blood and took a step towards the girl. Lindsay wanted so badly to run but she knew that was a stupid thing to do, the bear would most definitely attack her. 'Where is Morgan? His roar can scare the bear away,' the red head thought desperately. Morgan appeared on the scene and saw his sister facing the Black Bear. Panic griped him.**_

"_**Lindsay!" he cried without thinking.**_

_**The red head turned away from the bear, but it was too late for her to realise her mistake. The bear took the distraction and charged, a line of drool spilling from the corner of his mouth. Lindsay turned and screamed, raising her right arm to protect herself. The large animal made a huge swipe across Lindsay's arm knocked her over. She cried out in pain and tried to turn over to protect her stomach, but the bear batted her again with his massive paw. Lindsay tumbled and hit a tree.**_

"_**MORGAN HELP ME!" Lindsay screeched and the bear was on top of her, threatening to tear her apart.**_

_**Morgan clenched his fists, a sudden power and anger he had never felt before rose in his body like a dying fire finally finding oxygen to burn. He could feel his sharp talons dig into his skin, causing pain to flare in his hands, yet it only fuelled his blazing fury. He tore at his coat to rid him of the extra weight and as the shreds fell he reached down to his hip to pull the long hunting knife from it's hilt. Morgan's red eyes glazed over with blood wrath as he shifted into a wide crouch. No one, not even this creature, was going to hurt his sister! Hot adrenaline flowed through his veins as he roared, raised the weapon and leapt at the bear.**_

_**Lindsay was sure she was dead when suddenly the weight was lifted off her. She opened her eyes and her jaw dropped when she saw her brother on the bear's back, stabbing him with the hunting knife. The bear howled and stood up on his hind legs, waving his front paws wildly while the Predator fought to stay on. The large animal slammed down and bucked, trying to throw the alien off. Morgan lost his grip on the bear's back and in one motion he was tossed into the air. With the agility of a cat Morgan somersaulted, stuck out his legs to stop his momentum and landed softly on his feet. He turned around and snarled at the animal, knife in hand. The Black Bear grunted and limped away, not wanting to fight with a stronger creature. But Morgan was not finished with the bear, he was not going to let his prey go! The alien jumped high into the air, landed on the animal's back and jammed his knife deep into his flesh. The animal bellowed and tried again to buck Morgan off, but this time the Predator had dug his claws into the bear' shoulder so he wouldn't fall. Morgan stabbed again and again, feeling warm blood splash on his body. His power became stronger, he wanted more! He wanted to cut deeper and deeper! He wanted to see his prey fall!**_

_**Lindsay laid on the ground wide eyed with shock, she couldn't believe what she was seeing. What was wrong with her brother? Why was he acting like a psychopath? The Black Bear shook and bawled loudly, becoming weaker and weaker. Morgan raised his knife, causing a line of red to splatter across his face and slammed it into the bear's head, giving a quick twist. Lindsay's stomach lurched when she heard the wet crunch of the brain and skull ripping apart. The large bear groaned and fell to the ground with a thump, his tongue lolling out the side as a pool of blood poured from his mouth. Morgan's eyes were still glazed as his instincts guided him towards the head. He took the hunting knife and began sawing through the bone, often tearing at the muscle and tendons with his talons. He finally severed the neck from the spine and turned around facing Lindsay. She would've thrown up right then and there, but she was too scared to move or make a sound. Morgan raised his trophy high in the air, gore dribbling down his arm as he gave out a long triumphant roar.**_

_**Then suddenly, as if he had woken up from a dream, Morgan blinked and the blood wrath left his eyes, his instinct completely gone from his mind. He panted heavily as the alien looked down at his sister and saw her clutching her bleeding arm. She was very pale and stared at him as if she had seen a monster. Morgan felt he was holding something wet and turned to see the bear head in his right hand. His eyes went wide with disbelief and disgust and he dropped the head. Morgan saw his hands and arms covered in fresh blood, he saw the tattered remains of what was once his jacket on his shoulders and when he turned around, he saw his hunting knife jammed into the mutilated carcass. Morgan began to hyperventilate. He shook his head in denial and stepped back from the dead bear; he jumped and screamed when he accidentally stepped on the head. Morgan looked to Lindsay. She saw his mouth open and close, but no sound came out. His eyes were wild and full of terror.**_

"_**I–I–" he stammered through gasps, "Lindsay...I–"**_

_**Morgan stared at his hands, turned to the bear, then back to Lindsay.**_

"_**I didn't–I didn't...Lindsay!"**_

_**Morgan took a step towards her and Lindsay couldn't stop a small squeal from escaping her throat. The alien hissed and looked at his hands again, he couldn't stand the smell! Morgan clawed at his hands and arms as if trying to rid him of the blood. His growls mixed with whimpers of fear.**_

"_**What did I do! What have I done!"**_

_**He cried out over and over again until he glanced at the thrashed carcass. Morgan bent over, threw up and passed out, falling into the dirt with a thud; the bear head lying just above his own. Lindsay let herself breath normally, still trying to take in what she had witnessed, when her body remembered her injured arm. Lindsay moaned in anguish, held her arm closer to stop the bleeding and laid back. The girl turned her head to the path and prayed someone would come soon...**_

Lindsay leaned back on the basement railing and sighed, she remembered Morgan had turned fourteen that day; although it was not a very happy birthday on her brother's account. The family had dubbed the day Morgan was found as his birthday since no one had any idea when he was born.

Lindsay felt her right arm tingle as it usually did when she remembered the bear attack. Nicolas, Daniel and Jack had heard Morgan's roar and came running down the path to find her half conscious, Morgan unwilled and the torn up bear. Although questions rose, concerns rose higher and the siblings were taken back to the house. Lindsay was flown to the nearest hospital since the town only had a minor emergency clinic and doctor Grayeyes was immediately called to the house to examine Morgan. Lindsay's forearm received three horizontal claw marks and suffered some nerve damage, but not enough that would prevent her from playing sports or the flute—much to her relief. Morgan had only a few scratches from the ordeal, but was unconscious for three days. Lindsay stayed home from school and sat by her brother's bed until he awoke. Morgan remembered the whole ordeal, hated himself for what he had done and for a time, ceased to speak with anyone. He was not as carefree as he was before and he stopped taking his hunting knife with him. Only after a few weeks, the day before Nicolas left for university, did he speak again.

When word got into town about the bear attack, the locals questioned the family as to how Lindsay was rescued. Nicolas and Daniel made up a story saying they were with her and had saved her life. It took a long time to convince the town they weren't crazy when everyone heard that the bear had been decapitated. The family even had a few visits from the police, questioning their "claimed" story and if there were any known records of mental illness in their line. After a while, life in the town went back to normal and the bear attack was hardly talked about.

Lindsay glanced at her brother who was playing with one of his locks. She knew he had been holding back his true power ever since the attack. She knew there was something inside Morgan that needed to be released; some kind of lust that his race was born with and it had to be exercised. But she never talked about it with him, even though she probably should. He had and apologised for his "savage" behaviour when he began to speak again and Lindsay had told Morgan he had nothing to be sorry for. If he had not done what he did, she wouldn't be alive to see another day. But no matter how many times she said that to her brother, it did not fully comfort nor answer his confusion as to why he reacted the way he did. Morgan was still perplexed about his true identity—who wouldn't be? He was an orphaned alien in a strange world, with no idea of who he is, where he came from or who his people were. A crash came from above, followed by hysterical giggles. Lindsay snapped her head up the stairs.

"What are you two doing up there?" she shouted as she bounded up the stairs.

Morgan hung back for a while, then travelled towards the steps and sat down. He looked at his claws, the very ones that ripped the bear apart. He growled and shook his head when he recalled the smell of the bear's blood. How it stayed on his flesh for days, no matter how hard he tried to wash it off. Morgan's mandibles chittered nervously and he shut his eyes. He wasn't going to tell this to his sister, nor would he tell anyone in his family lest they became afraid.

Everyone thought his first release of the instinct made him frightened to let it go again, they were wrong. What scared him the most was the immense pleasure he got from it. He remembered quite clearly how good it felt to cut the bear, rip his head off and allow the blood to splash on him. He felt so proud of what he had done and he was ashamed of the sick accomplishment. Just what kind of race got that kind of immense pleasure from a kill?

Morgan growled in frustration. There was another thing he could not tell his family. After the attack his instinct would not completely go away and as he grew older it became a struggle to keep it down. In fact when he was playing Hunter in the woods with Martin and Garret, the need to stalk and kill his prey came back as strong as ever. Particularly when Martin tackled him. Morgan had to use all his power to fight the urge to break the kid's neck and lucky he was able to push the boy off before he lost control. But the lust peaked again when he chased after Garret and it was another hard fight not hurt the boy.

The alien ran a hand through his thick hair. Why would he do such a horrible thing? All his life he was taught that killing was wrong, so why didn't his morals kick in when he saw his sister being mauled by the bear? He gasped when a horrible thought presented it's self in his mind. What if his instinct became far from his control? What if he accidentally murdered his family? Would he get the same immense pleasure like he did with the bear? His stomach flipped as he sat back and growled again. No he wouldn't do it, he never allow himself to commit the unthinkable. But how long can he contain his instinct? Not for much longer, that much Morgan knew. Maybe he can hold back long enough until Uncle Danny took him on the hunting trip, perhaps then he can release some of his contained power; he just hoped he would not get carried away. The alien let out a rugged sigh and stood up to travel up the stairs.

As soon as he emerged from the basement his sensitive ears picked up Lindsay's voice directing the boys to clean the playroom on the top level of the house. He passed the carpeted stairs and went into a small room at the corner of the living room. He saw the light brown, varnished Henry Herbert piano standing against the far white washed wall. Music books, sheets and a few stands scattered the sides of the tiny room. A small window on the left wall had it's cream coloured curtains pulled back to allow the sunlight in. Morgan walked to the piano and sat on the worn bench, a piano and vocal book entitled "Phantom of the Opera" rested on the ledge in front of him. Even though Morgan loved to play the strings, his true passion lied with the piano. He enjoyed the feeling of his fingers moving gracefully over the ivory keys, producing either a gentle echo with the push of a pedal or a sharp, abrupt sound with the right amount of pressure; so many moods can be created with a piano and that's what he loved about it. Throughout the years Morgan compose ballads for both piano and guitar. Sometimes Lindsay would help him write words for songs and duets for both piano and flute. One day, he was going to create a song that featured all the family's instruments.

The alien sighed, cracked his knuckles and rested his hands on the keys. He began to play his favourite song, "I Can Go the Distance" from the Hercules Soundtrack. He slammed down on the keys as he played the introduction of the piece, the high and low notes mingling together in perfect harmony. Morgan whispered the words of the first verse, thinking of his own feelings.

"I have often dreamed, of a far off place, where a hero's welcome will be wai–ting for me. Where the crowds will cheer, when they see my face. And a voice keeps say–ing, this is where I'm meant to be..."

From the playroom Lindsay heard the familiar tune and her face turned solemn. Her brother only played that song when something was bothering him. The red haired seventeen year old felt lost. She wanted to help her brother through his suffering, but how can she help him when he won't tell her what's wrong? Maybe when Nicki arrives home, he can talk to him. Lindsay turned her attention back to Garret and Martin, making sure they cleaned up the rest of their mess.

_There yah go, another chapter. Sorry this took so long and thanks for your patience! Just to tell you I only play a bit of the piano and a few chords of the guitar, so if you know of any good piano or guitar songs let me know in your reviews! Oh I forgot, I updated my profile settings so you can check out what's new with me! _

_BTW ladies, there was a BIG safety tip in here. Do not go out for a hike in bear territory if you have your monthly friend. Most women who have been attacked by bears were menstruating and they are attracted to the smell of blood. Not to scare you or anything, it's just a precaution._

_I hope you enjoyed this chapter!_


	4. Homecoming

_Another day, another chapter. Provincials are coming soon and most of my summer is swamped with double header games. (shakes fist) DAMN YOU RAIN! Seriously we have had so much rain, many residential homes are flooded and our river has risen to a dangerous level. As a result our city's water filter is so clogged with sand, we could only use it for drinking, not for washing or bathing. That lasted for a few days._

_Enough of my ranting, on with the chapter..._

**Silvermoonlight GJ:** _Actually I have a theory about that. Since all Yautja are trained to be fighters at such a young age, Morgan didn't have that privilege. So all that natural instinct was not properly exercised and as a result it exploded in a way that any one may find disturbing (to a human anyway). Plus his instinct is also responsible for his interest in these hunting games and sadly Morgan doesn't understand it. That's my argument anyway ;D. _

**AsianDoll: **_Awe thanks for that review. I'm glad you like the Predator character and I hope you like my other story._

**Bastet:** _I thought you would find that a surprise, I think most people did. As for the reaction to the other Pred, you're just gonna have to read on!_

**Scarlet–Moonlight: **_Oh don't worry, read on and all will be explained._

**All other reviewers:** _Whether you guys were anonymous or signed, I still appreciate and note all your reviews! Thanks times infinity!_

The roar of a Cessna 180 could be faintly heard as Annie drove her quad and trailer to the landing strip. The trailer jumped and clanked on the gravel road, testing the five year old female Newfoundland dog's balance as she was being pulled by the quad. Annie stopped beside a large blue sign that read in big white letters, "Welcome to Twin Lake. Pop: 5, 216." The woman had aged slightly, her now short red hair was showing stands of grey and few wrinkles were lining the corners of her mouth and eyes.

Annie looked over the freshly plowed strip. It only snowed a few inches the other night, not very much compared to previous years. But it meant an early spring was coming for the third year in a row and the main lake was going to be low again. The town got its name from the two lakes that bordered the north end. The larger lake was mostly used by fishermen, trappers and water planes, while the smaller lake near the family property was used for wild rice farming. Luckily the wild rice grew away from the homestead on the other side of the lake. No one knew of the secrets that lied underneath the surface.

Annie sat back on the seat, fidgeting with excitement when she saw the red and white striped Cessna come over the horizon of pine trees. Her little boy was coming home for the holidays after spending four years on campus at the University of Pingum.

She watched the four passenger plane gently glide down to the field and hover in the air for a second before the pilot set the wheels to the ground, causing them to squeak. The plane's engines roared out loud as it bounced on the pavement and came to a stop at the edge of the strip. _Cormac planes_ was painted on both sides of the hull in large red letters. The pilot then guided the flying machine to the left edge of the strip, where he killed the motor and the front propellor slowed it's spinning. Annie smiled big and wide as she pushed on the ignition of the quad towards the 180. She saw a young man open the door of the pilot's side and she immediately recognised who it was.

Nicolas had grown from a small four year old boy to a tall, broad shouldered man. Finely toned arms showed through his short sleeved t-shirt, his brown hair had grown longer around his handsome face and showed natural red highlights. Stubble covered his chin and cheeks, indicating he didn't shave when he woke up. Annie turned off the four wheeler and ran up to the Cessna as Nicki swung his legs out from the cockpit.

"There's my star pilot!" Annie cried cheerfully.

Nicki looked up a smiled, "Hi mom! Glad to see you!"

He jumped down and lifted his mother off the ground in a huge embrace. Annie laughed and patted her son's back, returning the hug. The black and white dog leapt off the trailer and wagged her tail wildly as she nuzzled her nose in between the two.

"Of course Miss Daisy I didn't forget about you," Nicki chuckled. He let go of his mother to bend down and ruffle the dog's ears. Daisy barked happily and managed to plant a wet tongue on the young man's face.

"Ugh!" he yelped, wiping his cheek, "guess you missed me too."

Daisy panted and wagged her tail again while she wove around Nicki and Annie's legs in excited circles. The woman looked over her son's shoulder and into the cockpit.

"So how did Nicki do Jack?"

Jack shuffled to the door. His dark brown hair was also showing signs of greying and he had developed a bit of a pot belly.

"His landings are better than mine. I told you 'e had my brains!"

Nicki shrugged, "Well I learned from the best didn't I?"

Jack had his own airline business in Twin Lake. He was an experienced bush pilot and was the most reliable flyer. Not only for transporting most of the products, supplies and equipment to and from the town, but also for being the fastest flyer to respond to an emergency. Nicolas found interest in piloting at a young age and went to the city to enrol in a piloting school at the airport, as well furthering his education. Coincidently the trainer Carl Simmy, was the same instructor who had taught Jack many years ago.

After spending four years in university, Nicolas was close to finishing his courses and in May he would graduate with a degree in mechanical engineering. He then planned to move back to Twin Lake and help his father's business.

Jack stepped out from the cockpit and walked around to the cargo door. He lifted the handle but was suddenly jerked back when the door refused to open.

"Argh! Nicki can you help me with the door, it's jammed again."

The young man rolled his eyes and turned from Annie, "I thought I fixed that."

Nicki went to the small door, leaned his shoulder into it, then with one swift motion he grabbed the handle and gave a sharp pull. The door swung open and Nicki frowned as he looked at the inside.

"I'm gonna have to get a new gear for the handle, this one's too bent and rusted."

Jack looked at the door, "I think I have something similar in the shop. We can check tomorrow."

Nicki nodded and reached into the cargo hold for his large duffel bag. He pulled it out and walked to the trailer, with Daisy trotting beside him. The dog bunted her nose against his leg and Nicki chuckle as he scratched her head and ears. The young man set his bag down and looked over his shoulder to see his dad pull out a very large suitcase.

"Woah wait dad, I'll help you with that."

Jack grunted when he lifted the pack out of the cargo hold.

"Jeez Nick wha'd you put in here, barbells?"

Nicolas gave a sly grin, "No, just my anvil collection."

The father shook his head as he and Nicki lifted the heavy suitcase onto the trailer. Daisy jumped into it and sat down as Jack turned the key to start the motor. Nicki went to the Cessna to take out his coat, close and lock the door, then hop onto the back of the quad, while his parents settled in the front.

"Hang on in Nick, it's gonna be a bumpy ride!" his father yelled.

Annie clung to her husband when he pressed on the gas and made a sharp turn to the gravel road that lead into town. Nicolas took in a deep breath of the crisp air and watched the tall trees and thick snow drifts pass by as the drove along.

How he missed this place. He had forgotten how quiet and secluded the town was compared to the noisiness of the city. Not that he hated the city, it was a big, challenging step that he enjoyed very much in his adult life. He had made new friends, experienced new things and created new interests; but nothing gave him more excitement when he beheld his home after such a long time.

There was a slight jar as the quad moved from gravel to asphalt. 'That never use to be there,' thought Nicki. But then again, a lot had changed in the town. Twin Lake was a main stop in the northwest area for pilots and tourists who were making their way into the northern regions of the province. The town's population had grown over the past decade and alterations had to be made to accommodate. The minor emergency clinic had been added on to became a small hospital, a new doctors clinic had been built and the K to twelve school had grown from having four hundred kids per year to close to five hundred. Mostly because a K to six school in a town called Bookshell—only a twenty minute drive south from Twin Lake—had to be shut down due to bad construction. Until renovations were complete all seventy–five children from the town and surrounding area had to be bused into Twin Lake.

Nicki held onto the seat as he watched some houses and buildings pass by. A majority of the people in Twin Lake were trappers, fishermen, bush pilots like his father, wild rice farmers and hunters. There were even a few berry and herb farmers. Uncle Danny was one of the many hunters and owned a fishing and hunting store near the main lake, right beside Jack's water plane port. Most of the transportation was by quad, plane, skidoo and trucks or cars, with only one highway connecting to the town.

Nicki saw the out line of Twin Lake School through the snow covered trees and he grinned; they were half way home. Their two story house was a fifteen minute drive into town and the only way to get to the house was by quad or skidoo; trucks and cars were too big to fit through the winding, bumpy trail. The homestead was the only one in the area and the family's privacy was always respected. Which was a good thing since they were hiding a six foot alien.

Only a few people in the town knew about Morgan and it was stressed to keep his existence a secret. Doctor Grayeyes knew, the family's grandparents who lived in Pingum knew and a few very close friends. So far the secret hasn't spread through the community, although there had been a few close calls. The town became suspicious as to why the doctor would make personal visits, why the family never had get togethers or parties in their home and why Annie had quit teaching at the school.

The reason was Morgan, but for obvious reasons she was not going to tell that to the board. The alien had been home schooled all his life and both his parents were his teachers. Annie taught Morgan science, social studies and english while Jack taught him most of the math and physics. However every year it got harder and harder for Jack to spend time with his family, because he had been receiving a higher demand in transporting goods. His busiest years was when Morgan was growing out of infancy. With only a week until Easter, Jack was determined to finish all his orders by the time the holidays arrived. Nicki had previously offered his help and with both of them working together, the plan was guaranteed to succeed.

Jack turned the quad to the left and Nicki's stomach fluttered with excitement. They were nearly home! Oh how he had missed it. The familiar wood smell of the inside of the house, the long weaving trails of the forest he and his siblings would spend hours in, the lake where the family would spend hot summer days swimming and building sand castles on the natural beach. But what he missed most of all was his brothers and sister, particularly Morgan. The young man longed to see his face again. He had hated leaving for university when his adopted brother was in such a timid state. So Nicki made Morgan promise to stay in contact with him while he was away, through e–mails and letters. He had told his brother to never to use a phone, lest Nicolas' roommates happened to pick it up. Morgan kept his promise and the brothers remained in strong communication with each other throughout the four years. Nicki held onto the seat tightly as the trail became more bumpy.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

The doorbell rang and Morgan immediately stopped playing the piano. He turned around on the bench and tensed up. His parents always said to Morgan if someone came to the door and was let inside, he should remain silent and find a place to hide. He knew no one could see into the music room from the front door, so all he could do was hope that no one would come near it.

Lindsay bounded down the stairs, took a quick look into the livingroom to make sure Morgan couldn't be seen, then opened the door. A mid–thirties woman with tanned skin, long black hair and sparkling brown eyes stood on the veranda smiling.

"Hello Lindsay. I've come for Martin," she said.

Lindsay smiled back and inwardly felt relieved, "Hey Alison! He's in Garret's room playing Nintendo at the moment."

Alison rolled her eyes, "Oh no, I'll never get him down now."

Lindsay turned and leaned into the livingroom, "Red you can come out, it's Alison!"

As the red haired teen went to the stairs Morgan stepped out of the music room and headed for the front door.

"Hi Alison, it's been a while."

The Cree woman stepped into the house and closed the door behind her. She looked up at the tall alien and smiled at him like and old friend.

"Hey Morgan! How's my munchkin?"

Morgan looked away, blushing. Alison had continued to babysit for the Cormacs until she turned eighteen and left for the city to become a nurse. She always called him munchkin when he was young and to this day she still addresses him by that nickname; mostly just to tease him.

"Is Nicki home yet by any chance?" she asked.

"No," answered Morgan, "he won't be home for, probably another half hour. You can wait for him if you want."

The alien heard his sister call up the stairs for the boys and the sound of small feet echoed to the entrance. Alison sighed.

"I wish I could, but I have to get back to the clinic. Dad has some new equipment and orders he wants me to help him with."

Alison turned her head and saw her son, Garret and Lindsay come to the door.

"And you young man have some homework to finish."

"Awe mom!" whined Martin.

Morgan laughed softly at the boy's reaction as he folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame.

"So how is doctor Grayeyes' knee doing?" he inquired.

"Oh doing very well," Alison answered, "he still has to use a cane, but surgery's not going to keep my father out for the count."

She looked down at Martin and ruffled his hair, "C'mon shorty, you need to get that school work done."

Martin groaned and slipped on his boots and coat. He made his way out the front door, when his mother grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

"What do you say Martin?"

The ten year old swung around sharply and looked at the trio.

"Thank–you for letting me come over and play," he said rapidly.

Lindsay looked tapped her brother's shoulder.

"Thanks for coming over," he replied automatically.

Lindsay nodded in satisfaction and grinned, "and thank–you for helping Martin clean up the playroom. You were very helpful."

"You take it easy on your mom, no combat moves now," Morgan winked.

Martin smirked as he and Alison made last good–byes before they left. The motor of their four wheeler sputtered to life and the roar soon became a muffle as they disappeared down the path. Lindsay eyed her younger sibling.

"You have some homework too Garret. Remember mom wanted you to finish it before she and dad came home with Nicki?"

Garret stuck his chin out in annoyance, "You have homework too!"

She put her hands on her hips and bent down, "I finished it while you were out romping in the woods."

"You did not!"

'Oh for crying out loud, not this again,' Lindsay thought. She took Garret's shoulders and turned him around, patting his back to get him to go to the stairs.

"I did too. Now up to your room."

"Did not!" The boy pressed his sweaty socks to the wood floor when he felt Lindsay push on him. The seventeen year old grunted when her attempts to get her brother sliding failed.

"Did too. Move!"

Lindsay hoisted Garret into the air and held him upside down by his waist. The boy went into hysterical laughs and kicked wildly. Lindsay expertly avoided the flailing limbs by tilting her head to one side as she walked to the staircase.

"Ha–ha! Did not!"

The sister tickled her brother's belly and the boy trashed and laughed again. Lindsay's face narrowly missed a foot.

"Did too!" She right sided Garret and plopped him onto the stairs. She pointed up.

"Spit spot Garret."

The red head spun on her heel and headed for the livingroom.

"Did not!" yelled Garret.

Lindsay jumped around and ran towards her younger brother. A phony angry expression was on her face as she stomped her feet loudly on the floor. Garret shrieked and ran up to his room, slamming the door shut. She heard his giggles coming from the other side. The teen walked back with a confident stride and saw Morgan looking down at her with an eyebrow raised.

"You really think Garret is gonna do his homework?"

"With the Nintendo in there, uh–uh," Lindsay grinned, "I'll let mom deal with him when she gets home."

She glanced at the clock that hung on a support beam in the livingroom.

"Hey! Corner Gas is on!"

Lindsay bolted around Morgan's massive figure and headed towards the large chesterfield in front of the TV.

"Wait up!" shouted the alien as he followed her pursuit.

Lindsay grabbed the remote and turned the TV on while she sat back on the thick cushions of the couch and pulled up her legs . Morgan cleared over the top of the chesterfield and landed on the seat, causing his sister to jump up.

"Careful on this thing Red," the teen scolded, "it's had more share of your jumps over the last few years."

"Ah, this thing can still hold me."

"Yeah, like the last chair that held you. And it was made of metal!"

Morgan shoved his sister and she snickered.

"That chair was a rusted piece of shit and you know it!"

"Shhh, it's starting!"

The Corner Gas theme song filled the room as Morgan settled back and Lindsay brought her legs up again.

_Ah Corner Gas. The best Canadian comical TV show ever! And it's filmed in Saskatchewan!_

_Well that's all for now. I know some of you are thinking 'when is the other Predator gonna come?' The answer is simple, good things come to those who wait. Hee hee, yeah I'm annoying! Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter, remember to review!_


	5. Cold Killer

_So sorry everyone, I would've had this up sooner, but I had to finish playoffs for softball (we came in second), visit relatives, spend 3 three weeks working on another story to enter into a contest (I won second place!) and prepare for university. Which I must say I'm enjoying! Oh and for all those who have never seen Corner Gas, PLEASE DO! It's the best show ever! You can see it on the Comedy Network or CTV. Hee hee, advertising me. Okay on we go..._

"Anybody home?" called Nicolas as he stepped into the house, dumping his duffle bag on the floor. Morgan's eyes lit up when he heard the familiar voice. He leapt right off the couch and bolted to the front door faster than Lindsay could blink. The red head rolled her eyes and shook her head as she turned the TV off and stood from the couch.

"Nicki!" Morgan cried happily when he saw his brother.

The young man's eyes widened in surprise when he saw the large alien run towards him, then he laughed as he was picked up off the ground in Morgan's strong embrace. But Nicki soon found it hard to breathe.

"Hi Morgan—oof—I'm happy to see you too! Ack! Morgan you're crushing me!"

The alien released his older brother and he gasped gratefully. Morgan clicked his mandibles together as he smiled.

"Sorry Nick, but I have to make up for the last four years."

Lindsay poked her head around the corner, "Hey Nicki, wrecked any planes yet?"

The young man looked turned to his sister, "Nope, haven't taken the crash course yet! Ha–ha! Come 'ere carrot top."

Lindsay grinned as she walked over and gave her tall brother a hug. When she let go of him, he looked down at her with his hands on her shoulders.

"You've gotten taller Linds and you put on some muscle. Still playing ball?"

The teen nodded, "You better believe it! I've got Morgan as my personal training partner."

"Ah, that explains it."

At that moment Daisy ran through the door and rubbed up against Lindsay's legs.

"Hey Daisy, did you have a fun ride in the trailer?" the red head cooed.

Daisy wagged her tail and wriggled with excitement as she bunted Lindsay's thigh with her nose. Morgan stepped around the dog to make more room, when her tail thwacked his leg. Daisy turned her head and growled at the alien. Morgan rolled his eyes and reached down to her.

"Oh you dumb dog, it's me."

He gently scratched the dog's ears and Daisy immediately stopped growling. She let out a low purr and leaned into Morgan's hand as he rubbed an itchy spot. The Newfoundland's tail began to wag again and when Morgan stopped she bunted his knee with her nose, indicating she still wanted to be scratched. The alien smiled and ruffled the fur on the dog's back. He knew the only reason Daisy growled at him because she didn't like the smell of his musk, but what he couldn't understand was why the dog hadn't gotten use to the scent after being in the family for five years. Nicki looked over his shoulder and out the door.

"Dad leave that suitcase there Morgan and I can get it."

A muffled reply came back, "Thanks son."

Nicki nodded to his younger sibling then walked out the door. Morgan quickly slipped on his hiking boots and ran to the trailer with his brother. With a heave both brothers lifted the pack off and carried it to the house while Jack started the quad and drove it into the garage. Annie stood off to the side and watched her sons.

"You two got it?" she asked.

"Yeah mom, we got it," grunted Nicolas.

"What's in here anyway Nicki?" Morgan asked as he backed into the front door.

"All my rock climbing gear and Easter presents."

The boys lowered the suitcase to the ground.

"Cool! We can go to the ridge tomorrow if it doesn't snow!"

"Oh I plan too, I have some new shoes I wanna break in."

Nicki also shared in his brother's love for climbing. In their younger days they would spend hours climbing trees and rocks in the forest. Jack came into the home, followed by Annie who closed the door. She turned around and bumped into the large back of her adopted son.

"Yikes! Clear the doorway you guys."

Morgan grinned and purposely fell clumsily into his mother.

"Oops, sorry mom didn't see you there."

She cried out in laughter and playfully pushed him back. Morgan gave a goofy grin and stepped in front of his father, looking down at him.

"Sorry dad am I in your way?"

Jack chuckled and cuffed him on the shoulder, "Move along colossus and help Nick with his stuff."

"Wait, I have to say hi to Garret first."

Nicki kicked off his boats and headed for the stairs.

"Hey where's the midget of the house?" he called.

An excited cry and the pounding of feet came from above as Garret flew down the stairs and into Nicki's arms.

"Hi Nick! You bring lots of candy?"

The young man laughed, "Oh I brought so much candy your teeth are gonna rot."

Garret wormed out of Nicki's grasp and went to the luggage to try and pick up the suitcase.

"Ugh! Wha'd yah get me Nicki, wha'd yah get?

Annie crossed your arms, "Garret where's your manners?"

The university student smiled, "It's alright mom, he's just curious. Thanks Garret I can take it."

Nicki walked around his little brother and slung the strap over his shoulder. Morgan took the suitcase once again and pulled it suitcase towards the stairs. Jack and Annie began to take off their coats and boots and put them in the closet, while Lindsay and Garret watched the two boys climb up the stairs towards Nicki's room. Annie walked to the bottom step.

"When you're settled Nicki I'd like to listen to some of those stories of yours."

Nicki waved, "You got it mom."

He turned back and helped Morgan pull the heavy bag over the last step, then they both travelled to the end of the hall and opened the brown door. Nicki stepped in first and gazed around his old room as Morgan moved to one side. He saw his bed in the left corner of the room covered with clean blue sheets beside the two wooden shelves that held a few of his old books and some of his left behind belongings. Across from his bed, under a large window was a small desk with a lamp and on the other side of the room was a small, empty closet. Nicolas sighed at dropped the bag on the carpet floor, it felt weird seeing his room looking so bare. Almost everything was taken out when he moved into the university residence four years ago. He scanned over the creamy white walls until he came to a long, jagged crack. He smiled, remembering he had challenged Lindsay and Morgan to a wrestling match when he was twelve. To get away from the siblings combined attack Nicki had to somersaulted over them, but he was closer to the wall than he had thought and ended up putting a foot through it. The young man chuckled, the three of them were in so much trouble after that; they had never done so many chores in their entire lives. Nicolas walked to the closet and took off his coat.

"Man, I never thought I'd miss home this much," he sighed.

Morgan set his load at the foot of the bed, "Yeah we cleaned the room up a bit before you came. The closet door is fixed and we got the carpet shampooed."

The young man's eyebrows rose as he opened the closet, "Wow, it doesn't jam anymore."

Nicki placed his coat inside and closed the door and glanced at the bare walls, mentally wishing they still were covered with the posters of his favourite rock bands, wall climbers and athletes that were now in his dorm room. He sighed again and travelled to where Morgan was.

"Lindsay told me you had a surprise for me," the alien said with a grin on his face.

Nicki raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, "Oh? She did? When did I tell her that?"

"Cut that out Nicki, you can't pull the wool over my eyes."

Nicki laughed, "I never could."

Morgan shook his head and waited for his brother to say something, but he remained silent with a grin on his face. The teenage alien cocked his head to one side.

"Well?"

Nicki held back a laugh and his innocent look remained; he enjoyed teasing his sibling.

"Well what?"

"Nicki!"

The university student held his side as he burst out laughing, "Patience is a virtue young one. Tomorrow I'll be giving gift to everyone and you'll get it then."

Morgan growled and flopped back on the bed with his hands over his face. 'I have to wait one more day!' he thought, 'I'm not gonna survive!' Nicki chuckled and playfully slapped Morgan's knee.

"Awe get up yah drama queen, it's not the end of the world."

The alien glared at his brother, "I hate you."

Nicolas smiled and shrugged, "Yeah I love you too."

He opened his duffel bag and began to unload his clothes into the closet. Morgan took his hands off his head and stared at the ceiling, letting out a long side.

"How long are you here for Nick?"

"I'll be here until Easter Sunday, then I have to go back. Think you can handle me for a week?"

Morgan smiled, "I've handled you for the past fourteen years, one week is nothing."

Nicki chuckled and went back to his task. Morgan offered his help but Nicki politely declined and the humanoid headed for the door. He was about to step out when he stopped and looked over his shoulder to his brother.

"Nicki..."

The young man stopped what he was doing and turned to Morgan. As soon as he looked into his brothers eyes he sensed something was amiss; Nicki had a sixth sense for unbalanced emotions.

"...I'm really glad you're here."

Nicolas stared at his adopted brother for a moment then nodded, "I'm glad to be here little brother."

Morgan smiled warmly and without another he left the room, leaving Nicki to ponder about what was going through his sibling's mind.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

An ice wind as piercing as a freshly sharpened blade whistled through a desert planet of snow. Huge white flakes zipped this way and that, making the air look like a thick, waving curtain. From on top of an ice mound a large body stood against the cold and a low growl that was barely audible in the wild wind. The Hunter stood absolutely still in the gust, while his long dread locks whipped around his head and clanked against his black metal mask. The torso armour he wore had a thin lining of fur to keep in more warmth, black gauntlets covered both his arms, layered plates and shine guards lined with fur covered both his legs. His metal loincloth hung snugly around his hips and on his large feet were gold and black boots instead of the common leather sandals. The traditional heating mesh that covered his body under his armour was turned down as he stood in the blizzard. Most hunters would have thought he was crazy to have the much needed mesh at a low setting in this kind of weather, but he was conditioning himself to endure the cold. Although his planned destination - an approximate two month trip from this planet - was not going to be as harsh as this, the Hunter did not want to take any chances.

He growled irritably as he held back his dread locks to stop him from hitting his mask; he regretted not tying them back. The male walked down the ice hill and inwardly shivered, but refused to turn up his heating mesh. He flipped open his wrist computer and a 3D image of the landscape appeared, while he scanned the area. One would think there was no life on this barren planet, but huge pachyderm like creatures inhabited the world. Each one grew to be seven to eight metres tall and heavy fur as thick as ten woven carpets grew over their massive bodies, long trunks and even their eyelids to protect them from the elements of the planet. Four, long ivory tusks protruded from their top and bottom jaw and grew to a deadly looking curve. The male once had heard that the oomans called animals like theseWooly Mammoths, a prehistoric animal that was hunted to extinction by early oomans. These pachyderms were very strong and powerful and had shown to be a smart animal.

The Warrior's wrist computer beeped and the holographic image shifted to a reveal a cluster of red dots against a giant mountain. He heard a faint bellow in the wind and turned his head to that direction. A smile appeared behind the Hunter's mask as he closed his computer, activated his cloaking device and headed for the direction of the noise. He felt his blood grow hot with the anticipation of the hunt. As the Hunter ran he made sure he was down wind so the mammals wouldn't catch his scent. It wasn't long until he found the herd.

To an ooman the massive animals would've looked like moving mounds of snow with black eyes, but through the Warrior's heat vision mask, they were giant bodies of orange, yellow and red against a mountain of dark purple. He sat back on his heels ans scanned the herd to find suitable prey. Three small pachyderms, undoubtedly babies, were huddling close to their mothers for protection from the cold. Five of them were juveniles and the Hunter growled, thinking that they wouldn't have enough experience to put up a worthy fight. The two biggest mammals, who looked to be the leaders from the way they held their heads up high, stood on the outskirts of the herd. Both were male and one of them was missing half of his upper right tusk, probably from protecting the herd or putting a challenging member in it's place.

The Warrior surmised that they were brothers and were full of experience from the way they worked together; watching and listening for danger as they roamed around their herd. The cloaked Predator grinned, just claiming on of those skulls would be a glorious trophy. He remained still against the piercing gust and gazed at the herd, forming a plan of attack in his mind. He noticed the brothers were swaying their heads and shifting back and forth on their massive front feet. The sign was universal; they sensed his presence and were getting restless. The male had to act quickly. He tapped his wrist computer and his shoulder cannon swivelled to a firing position. The alien took aim and three bright blue, plasma balls went shooting from his cannon, landing on their marks; one beside the broken tusked leader and the other two near the young bloods of the herd. Snow exploded into the air and the massive mammals bellowed in shock and panic, some of them roaming away from the group in their confusion. The half tusked leader raised his head and gave out a long trumpet above the wind. The pandemonium stopped and the herd understood the message. The juveniles took off to the direction of the second brother while the mothers urged their babies to follow as fast as they could in the deep snow. The second brother stood up on his hind legs and slammed his wholly feet into the frozen ground, calling the group closer to him as he turned and walked through the curtain of ice and snow. The first brother took up the rear to push the herd onward.

The Warrior took off after the broken tusked mammal and brandished his _ki' its–pa_. He extended the deadly weapon to its full six foot length and as he came up to the wholly beast he gave the animal's hind legs a good slash to provoke him to fight. The cloaked male didn't know if he hit the skin under the thick fur coat, but the attack did cause the leader to turn his heavy head. Very slowly the pachyderm rotated his massive body and stood between the intruder and the herd, ready to battle. The male Yautja de–cloaked and shifted into a wide crouch, feeling his excitement rise from the pit of his stomach to his chest. He knew the animal's eyes were terrible in this storm, but the leader's sharp sense of smell made up for that. The Warrior roared a challenge to the pachyderm and the mammal answered with his own bellow. The hunt was about to begin.

The wholly creature rose up on his hind legs and let out a long holler that could be heard clearly over the wind, then slammed his feet down into the deep snow and charged at the Hunter with shocking speed. But the Warrior was expecting a charge and easily jumped out of the way, avoiding the long, curved tusks that swung at him. The male turned to one side, wound up and gave a mighty throw with his _ki' its–pa_, smiling as the blade sunk deep into the side of the animal. The Hunter was rewarded with a roar of pain from the broken tusked mammoth as he slowed his gallop to a stop, glare at the Hunter with blazing black eyes. This time the leader circled his opponent, ignoring the stabbing pain in his side and lashed out with his strong trunk when ever he had the chance. The Warrior jumped and dodged from side to side, coming closer to getting hit with every strike, until he whipped out a long sword from his utility belt and jammed it into the long muscular trunk as it hit the ground.

The leader bellowed in agony and raised his trunk high into the air to shake his opponent off. The male warrior hung on tight to the trunk until he was high enough above the head of the mammoth and let go. The wild wind nearly blew him off his target, but the Hunter reached out to grab a handful of the thick coat and hold on with immense strength. His body slammed into the heavy side of the animal, causing the air to empty from his lungs, but he shook the feeling off and clung tightly to the fur. The mammoth stomped his front feet and shook his entire body to try and rid him of the alien. He swayed his heavy head and slapped at his side in an attempt to hit the Warrior. Refusing to let go and with all the jerky movements and continuous strikes, he raised his head caught sight of the jammed spear in the mammal's body. Reaching over with his left hand while trying to steady himself on his prey, the Warrior managed to grab the shaft of the _ki' its–pa_ and pull it out with a quick yank.

He heard the pachyderm cry out again as the Hunter scrambled up the side and onto his back. The leader could feel his opponent on the top of his head and he sprinted forward into the wind to throw the alien off. For a moment the Hunter felt him self fall head over heals with the sudden sprint, but with a lighting thrust, he stuck the blade of his spear deep into the back of his prey. Even with the spear in the back, the mammal refused to lose the fight and continued to run through the deep snow. With a determined growl the alien dug his claws into the fur of the animal, pulled out his spear and crawled to the head of the pachyderm. The broken tusked leader could feel his enemy creep onto his head and suddenly stopped his rampage across the desert, but the Hunter was ready for the manoeuver. He held on to the fur like a leach and took the sudden stop to his advantage. With a mighty roar the Warrior stood tall, raised his _ki' its–pa_ and stabbed deep into the pachyderm's head. A final roar came from the old leader as he felt the sharp blade pierce through his brain. As the strength left the aged mammal, his knees buckled and he fell forward with a loud groan. The Hunter held onto his _ki' its–pa_ and leaped off into the snow as the beast collapsed in a heap. He then stood to his full height, arched his back, swung his arms wide and let out a long animalistic roar that dominated the strong wind and shook the mountain.

The Hunter breathed in and out in large gasps as the rush left his system. He turned to the fallen leader and bowed in respect for a good fight. The male then took out his large ceremonial dagger and began to saw off the great head of the beast. Steam rose from the body as dark red blood poured from the long cuts and onto his hands and white snow, but the Warrior was use to seeing such gore and continued to slice the neck. He cleaned the blade with the fur of the carcass before continuing and suddenly heard a faint cry in the distance. The herd was trying to call to their leader, but they would never again get a reply. The Warrior finally separated the last tendons connecting the skull and tied it off with a strong cord from a pouch on his belt so he could carry it back. He felt no pity for the family group, nor did he feel any remorse for what he had done. It was the way of the way of life and the way of hunt, they would have to accept the loss of their leader and move on. Once the last rope was secure around the head, the Hunter hauled the trophy across the icy, desert planet towards his ship, leaving a long bloody trail in the snow.

_So there you have it, an intro to the other Predator! Sorry again everyone for the long wait, but university has a way of swallowing up time. Hopefully things should calm down after a bit and I can get more chapters up. I hope you enjoyed this one and remember to review!_


	6. To the Hunter, From the Prey

_Hey all! Sorry for the LONG wait, I had been working at this when I had spare time available. But I have now finished all of my finals and completed my first year of university! I feel so proud :D! So, to celebrate, I made this chapter extra, extra long for all of you. Enjoy!_

_I also thought I should clear up a little confusion, if there was any. I have been getting a couple of reviews from my last chapter, wondering why the "New Predator" was on earth during the winter or in a freezing location with Wholly Mammoths. To clear that up, the Predator was suppose to be on a planet inhabited by those creatures and he **had heard** from somewhere that the humans called them Mammoths. The Mammoths that ruled the desert world had 4 tusks and 7–8 metres tall, where as our Mammoths had 2 tusks and were only 4 metres tall. I figured writing something like that would make it seem like the Predator was on a different planet, but it probably wasn't a noticeable difference, so I went back to the chapter and changed a bit of it. Hopefully it makes sense now and I apologise again for this confusion._

_Enough chit chat, onward ho!_

The gentle glow of dawn barely touched the horizon in the early morning, allowing the last few stars to flicker in the sky and gaze down on the Cormac residence. Frost had begun to form on the edge of each window from the crisp air, causing the old wood would creak every now and then. Deep under the soft, cotton bed covers was Lindsay, already beginning to stir from her sleep. She didn't make an attempt to open her eyes, she only snuggled deeper into the thick mattress. Instincts told her it was a freezing morning, but she felt perfectly warm in her bed. The red haired teenager did not dare move her body, for she was in the most comfortable position and she wanted to keep this rare, restful feeling as long as possible. Lindsay was about to fall back into a deep, warm sleep, when suddenly the door swung open and blinding light filled her room. The teen squinted her eyes and ducked her head behind the covers, almost screaming out in anger.

Morgan, dressed in an orange button shirt and dark blue jeans, leapt into the room with his guitar. He strummed several chords and belted the words to an old campfire song.

"Rise and shine and give God the glory, glory! Rise and shine and give God the glory, glory! RISE–AND–SHINE–AND–" he leaned over so that his guitar was right beside Lindsay's head and slammed the palm of his hand on the wood, causing an earsplitting bang. He grinned when he saw his sister jump from under the covers, "–GIVE GOD THE GLORY, GLORY! Children of the Lord! ALL TOGETHER NOW!"

The alien sang out the rest of the verses—sounding something like an off key bass, mixed with hissing clicks—and continued his flashy playing. Morgan had always been an early riser and he was feeling exceptionally jovial this morning, now that Nicki was back. Also, waking his sister up so early was the perfect payback for yesterday's teasing. Lindsay made a loud groan and pulled the pillow over her head to drown out the noise.

"Morgan, get out!" yelled the muffled voice of the red haired teenager.

Morgan did not leave and continued to shout the third verse of the song, pounding his instrument in time with the rhythm. Lindsay finally had enough and rose abruptly, flinging the covers off. Her curly hair looked like a tangled bird's nest, her green eyes glared like ice and her lips were pulled back into a snarl.

"If you don't get out of my room right now, I'll pull your mandibles so hard, you'll be able to fly in the wind!"

Morgan took the threat very seriously and slowly retreated, playing his guitar quietly while he hooked his heel on the edge of the door to close it. Unlike him, Lindsay was not a morning person and Mondays were the worst. Lindsay flopped back onto her bed, pulling up her covers as she did so. She glanced at the green lights of her clock on the bedside table.

"Five in the morning!" Lindsay moaned to herself, "what in God's name is wrong with Morgan! I don't get up for another two hours!"

It was going to take a while for her to get back to sleep, because once she woke up, she stayed awake. Lindsay dropped her face into the pillow and let out a long groan. She tried to find the comfortable position again and made a vain attempt to regain a comfortable slumber.

Morgan trotted down the stairs, flicking random notes as he cleared his throat. Singing relatively close to a human put a strain on his voice. But he didn't mind, as long as he could create music with instruments, singing mattered little. Morgan headed for the kitchen and found his parents sitting at the small table. His father was already dressed in his work clothes, as he usually started his days early in the morning and his mother, who was sitting across from him in a white bathrobe, got up at the same time he did to see him off. Both of them looked up from their coffee as Morgan entered. Annie had a stern face.

"Morgan, you shouldn't have woken Lindsay at this hour. You only needed to wake Nicki."

The alien shrugged, "I am the 'alarm' of the house, might as well do my job."

"Yes, but only if you are asked to be the alarm. If I hear you rudely wake any of your siblings like that again, I'm taking that guitar away from you. Understand?"

Morgan sighed as he pulled out a chair and sat down, "Fine, mom."

He leaned back on his chair a bit and placed the stringed instrument on his lap so he could keep playing. Jack put the cup down from his lips.

"Morgan, what's the rule?"

The alien put his palm on the steel strings to stop their vibration and leaned the guitar carefully against the wall.

"No playing at the table," he grumbled.

Jack nodded, "Thank you."

Morgan took a deep breath and decided to make his favourite breakfast—toast with peanut butter and bacon and a side of scrambled eggs with melted cheese. He got up from his seat, took out the frying pan from the cupboard under the oven and placed it on the burner. While he left the pan to warm he took out the butter, eggs and cheese, then placed the toast in the toaster. Jack stood from the table and went to fill his second cup of coffee, taking a glance at his adopted son.

"How come you're dressed up this mornin', Morgan?" he asked.

Morgan curled this mandibles to a grin, "This is Nicki's first day at work with you. I thought of dressing up for the occasion."

His father patted his great back, "That's considerate of you, you're very good to your older brother."

Morgan felt the heat rise from the oven as he placed the butter and bacon onto the pan. Almost immediately the strips began to sizzle.

"You would've done the same for Uncle Danny, right?"

Jack laughed, "If my brother saw me in a dress shirt, he would've found an excuse to squirt mustard at me."

Morgan snickered and turned his attention back to the bacon, barely noticing that his mother had left the table to bring Daisy in from her kennel outside. He had just removed the strips of pork and begin to crack the eggs when he heard the familiar clacking of the dogs claws in the hardwood floor. The Newfoundland trotted into the kitchen, with melted frost covering her back and tail wagging.

"Good mornin' to you, pooch," said Jack, moving out of the way before he could be hit by the damp dog.

Daisy only panted and wiggled with excitement, until she turned to Morgan and gave a tiny woofing growl. Morgan groaned. He took a piece of warm bacon and put it in front of the canine's nose.

"Here, you want some bacon?"

Daisy stopped growling and wagged her tail even harder as she sat down, staring intently at the meat and salivating. Morgan tossed it in the air and with a quick snap over her jaw, the bacon was in her mouth and gone before he could blink. Daisy remained seated on the floor and continued to gaze at Morgan with big brown eyes.

"Okay, okay. I'll give you your daily cheese," Morgan chuckled as ran the block of cheddar cheese over the grater until he was able to pick up a small ball with his thumb and forefinger. The female dog drooled and shifted impatiently on her front paws. Morgan held the ball in front of her nose and she gently took it from him, her teeth grazing his fingers. The alien wiped his fingers on his jeans before scratching the dog's ears, hearing the satisfying smack of the dog's tongue over her lips. There was a rattling noise from the back door and Daisy suddenly got to her paws, then disappeared from the kitchen with her raised like a flag. Annie was filling the dog bowl with kibble, and no dog was foreign to that sound. She came back into the kitchen, shaking her head as he sat down.

"I swear, she's a pig on dog's clothing."

Jack chuckled and Morgan smiled as he scooped his finished eggs onto a plate, then took the pan off the element and quickly took out his toast from the toaster. He smeared peanut butter over the crisped bread, then layed four strips of bacon on top of the thick spread. Morgan brought his breakfast to the table and he cocked his head when he heard a soft thump.

"Nicki's comin' down," he announced cheerfully before he bit into his toast, feeling peanut butter stick to the corners of his mouth.

Neither of his parents could hear Nicki, but they knew Morgan had better hearing than they did. The young man walked into the kitchen, wearing heavy jeans and a baggy, gray t–shirt. A smile spread across his face.

"Morning mom, morning dad, Morgan," he went to fetch himself some cereal.

Jack downed his coffee before he spoke, "You ready for some flyin' Nick?"

Nicholas sat down,"You know it, dad. Neither rain, sleet or snow is going to stop me from flyin'."

"Good, we leave six o'clock sharp."

"I'll be ready."

For the next fifteen minutes the family chatted with each other until it was time for the pilots to leave. The dishes were cleared away and the group headed for the front door. Jack was the first to be ready and he opened the front door, scrunching his face at the blast of freezing air.

"Phew! It's cold out there! Make sure you're bundled up Nick."

The middle aged man grabbed his helmet before he left and made his way to the garage to start the quad. Morgan stood beside his mother with his arms crossed over his chest, while he watched Nicky put on his winter jacket. He tried very hard not too shiver, he wanted to stay with his brother until he left. The young man pulled his boots over his feet, then stood and went to hug his mother good–bye.

"Bye mom, we should be back at around five," he turned to his younger brother, "I'm sorry we can't go climbing at the ridge today Red, but we still have the rest of the week to do that."

Morgan only smiled, "Don't worry about it, you have fun flying. Just remember to look both ways before you cross the polar bears."

Nicki chuckled as he hugged his brother, "Yeah, and I'll watch out for the sled dogs too. Thanks for dressing up for me Red."

Morgan let go of his brother, "Anytime Nicki."

Nicki grabbed his thick mitts and helmet and stepped out the door, already hearing the roar of the four wheeler. Annie and Morgan watched the young man jump onto the back of the quad and they stayed at the door until the machine's lights and sounds disappeared through the trail in the bright, early morning. The alien bolted into the living room before his mother closed the door, shivering from the momentary exposure of the morning air and furiously rubbing his arms to get his warmth back.

"Damn the cold!" he mumbled under his breath.

Another hour passed and Morgan was sitting in the music room, playing "Ordinary Day" by Great Big Sea. The fast paced song added more to his good mood, when he suddenly caught the heavy, steps of his sister coming down the stairs. Morgan pulled back his mandibles into a grin as he stopped playing and stood from the seat and head for the kitchen. He saw his sister dressed in a yellow and red striped shirt, khaki pants and her face had the most sour look. Her thick, red hair had now been brushed and the same gold hoop earings remained in her ears.

"Good morning sunshine," Morgan said merrily.

Lindsay gave him a look that said, 'I really wanna rip your head off', before she turned from him and fixed herself a bagel with cream cheese. She didn't even bother petting Daisy when she trotted by. Morgan kept his grin as he reached for his guitar that still leaned against the wall and strummed a few chords. 'Revenge has never been sweeter,' he thought to himself. It wasn't long until Garret came bounding down into the kitchen wearing jeans and a green, long sleeved shirt. He grabbed a bun and spread it thick with nutella. The red head grunted when the ten year old plopped himself down in front of her and begin to eat his sweet breakfast. At the same time, Annie came back into the kitchen fully dressed, and stood behind Garret to fix his black curls.

"Is your homework in your backpack Garret?" she asked.

"Yes mom!" he replied irritably, shaking his head so his mother would leave his hair alone. Annie adjusted a few more curls before she looked at the clock.

"You two had better get going or you'll be late for school."

Annie went to her daughter, who was dozing against her propped hand, and tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention. Lindsay rubbed her sleepy eyes before standing up and heading for the front door. She slipped on her jacket and laced her large shoes that were designed to withstand minus thirty degree weather. She looked up and didn't see her younger brother.

"Garret! Hurry up!"

"I'm coming!" shouted a high pitched voice from the kitchen.

He ran to the front door and ripped out his thick coat while Lindsay put on her mittens. She grabbed her motorcycle helmet and shoved it over head, then grabbed her knapsack before heading out the door.

"Bye!" she called, leaving the door open for Garret. She heard her mother and Morgan say their good–byes as she went to the Honda quad parked beside the garage. Quads were forbidden on school grounds, but since the path to the Cormac's property prevented a car from going through, it was an exception. As long as the machine wasn't driven during the lunch hours or breaks, they were permitted to drive it to school. The same rule also applied to skidoos, during the winter. Lindsay walked to the four wheeler, turned the key and almost immediately the machine came to life with a great roar. She straddled over the thick seat and waited for Garret. Lindsay felt the cold begin to seep through her winter gear as she gazed over the tall, evergreen trees that circled their property and stretched up to the heavily clouded sky. The only sounds she could hear, was the quad and the crinkling of her jacket as she turned to see the little boy fly down the veranda, backpack in hand and leaving a trail of vapour behind him. Their mother was standing at the edge of the door with Daisy sitting obediently beside her.

Lindsay pushed down her visor and twisted the ignition handle as soon as she felt Garret jump on behind her. She directed the machine to the muddy path in the woods and the headlight shown through the shadowed trees. As they drove deeper into the trail, the thin trees closed in on either side of them, like giant, black and brown fingers, causing the noise of the skidoo to become louder. Annie stayed at the door, until her children disappeared from view.

Garret clung to his sisters backpack when she made a hard right as soon as they emerged from the trail, fifteen minutes later. The teenager kept them as close to the edge of the road as possible to avoid the deep drifts in the ditch. She applied more pressure on the ignition and drove the four wheeler faster along the road, until she caught a glimpse of the school in front of her.

The school of five hundred students, situated beside a very large, grassy field and surrounded by elm trees, was both an elementary and high school. It contained two large gyms, one of them holding a two lane, track strip, and a small gym. The elementary school on the north side had a playground and two outdoor basketball quarts, while the high school on the south end claimed part of the field for football and the outdoor skating rink. The school was also used to hold recreational, academical and communal activities of the town. Lindsay waited for a moment to allow two trucks and a car drive by, before she crossed to the other side. She drove the quad up a skinny trail through the line of trees and onto the great field, rolling over a thin sheet of melting snow. Already she could see the young children playing and laughing on the playground, while others were being dropped off by their parents. Lindsay drove to the west entrance of the school and stropped to let Garret off. The ten year old jumped from the machine and ran to where he saw a couple of his friends. Lindsay twisted hard on the handle and continued her way, until she hit the football field near the high school. She saw the school bus pull up to the south entrance as she stopped the quad near the staff parking lot. The machine was safe there, due to the many large windows that lined the math and science classrooms. That way, no suspicious characters could snoop around without someone noticing. Lindsay shut off the quad and pulled the key out from the ignition before crunching though the remaining snow to join the swarms of students that fell out of the bus.

The loud noises of lockers and chattering teenagers filled the wood and gray brick hallway like a swam of bees as the red head lifted her visor and dodged the students to get to her locker. She turned a corner and halted in front an off–white locker that had the numbers _673_ across the top. She quickly turned the dial on her lock and whipped off her helmet. Static electricity crackled in her wavy hair and she tried to comb it out with her hand. Lindsay turned when she heard the happy screeches of the grade one class from behind the double doors that divided the school. The grade ones were the noisiest class in the whole school and she wondered why their teacher wasn't clinically deaf by now. After placing her helmet in her locker and taking off her jacket, she adjusted her locker mirror, snatched a hair elastic from a magnetic holder and quickly finger combed her hair into a small pony tail. She yawned and gave her eyes a quick rub, then grabbed her binder and her history and math text book, grunting at their combined weight. Lindsay closed her locker and wove through the crowd of teenagers, often saying hello to passing classmates, until she walked into her history classroom and flopped down on her seat. The clock in front of the room read eight twenty–one; nearly ten minutes before class started. The red head yawned again as she crossed her arms over her binder and laid her head between them. She didn't notice the Aboriginal teenage girl that stepped beside her.

"You alive there, Lindsay?" she asked.

A muffled groan replied and the teen chuckled and shook her head, her highlighted brown hair swaying with the motion.

"So what time did the 'alarm' wake you?"

Lindsay kept hear head down, "Five in the morning."

She heard her classmate laugh.

"Oh, shut up Santana!"

"Haha! What was the occasion?"

Lindsay turned her head to the side so she could see her friend, "Nicki's back."

Santana sat in the desk beside her, "Ah, that explains it."

Santana and Lindsay had been best friends since they were four years old and was one of the few friends who knew about Morgan. Santana's family was of Cree–Ojibwa origin and her father was a trapper, who knew Lindsay's uncle very well. However, Santana never told her mother, father or her older sister about Morgan and she swore never to tell them; unless she had permission from Lindsay's family.

"Why'd yur alarm go off at five in the mornin'?"

Lindsay nearly jumped out of her seat when she turned to a boy, with shaggy brown hair, gray eyes, pale freckled skin and wearing baggy jeans and a black t–shirt that had ACDC across the chest. Around his neck was a brown stringed choker that held black and white beads in it's weaves, his left ear was pierced with a thick, silver ring and his clothes held the strong, gagging smell of cigarette smoke. Lindsay looked up at him, 'Augustin Keller,' she thought.

"Gus, stop sneaking up like that!" growled Lindsay.

From her tone of voice, it was obvious she did not like this boy. Augustin shrugged.

"It's a simple questin'."

"Then here's a simple answer, my piece of crap for an alarm decided to malfunction at five in the morning."

She had hoped that would satisfy him, but Gus remained where he was.

"Seems to do tha' a lot on Monday mornin's."

Oh how Lindsay wished this jerk would go away, but she kept her voice even.

"Not my fault the wiring sucks."

"Then why no' get a new one?"

"Why should you care?"

Santana was about to speak to stop this pointless discussion when the bell rang and their history teacher, Mr. Carlson, entered the room.

"Get to your seats students," the middle aged man ordered while he organised his notes.

Lindsay quickly turned from Gus as the class scrambled to their desks. How she despised Augustin. He was rude, inconsiderate, always stuck his nose into other people's business, smoked heavily and blew off a lot of school. She wondered how he was even passing at all. Lindsay didn't have any more time to think about it when her teacher began to read out the attendance sheet.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

Morgan was back on the piano, experimenting with the harmony of a new song he was writing. He stopped for a moment and hummed the melody a few times, lowering his eyebrows at the music sheet in front of him.

"Not that chord," he whispered to himself. He moved the fingers on his left hand a tone higher and pressed on the keys, "ah, that's better."

He took his pencil and quickly scribbled the chord on the sheet music, squinting his eyes so he could properly see what he was writing. That was the drawback of his heat vision, he could barley see what he wrote on paper, ink or lead. He would always have to narrow his eyes in order to focus the light and read the thin lines of the letters. Using a magnifying glass sometimes helped lessen the strain on his eyes. Morgan continued to play, humming every now and then as the lyrics flowed through his mind. He made sure to write down every note so he could later incorporate it into guitar music. The musical alien was so immersed in the song that he didn't notice his mother appear behind him.

"Stop playing Morgan, time for school work."

"Awe mom, five more minutes? I was just getting the next verse."

"It'll still be there in that large brain of yours, now you have to work on you biology."

Morgan growled deep in his throat. He hated that subject so much, even hearing the word made him cringe. Regardless, he forced himself to stand and head for the large table in an area of the livingroom where he saw his mother waiting, his school books and his binder already on the table. He collapsed on the chair, causing a squeak to come from the wood as it bore his weight, and opened his binder, flipping through the pages until he came to Friday's notes. Annie opened the text book and gave a satisfying nod.

"Alright, we'll continue with the Organization of Cells unit and the structure of the animal cell. Then we will move on to the plant cell and I'll have you work on the discussion questions."

Morgan grunted and clicked his mandibles while he toyed with his pen; stupid cells! He could never remember the names of the different parts of the cell; maybe the nucleus, the ribosomes and chromosomes, but that was as far as his memory went. He wished Lindsay was home schooled, she was a whiz in biology. Morgan leaned on his hand and listened to his mother begin the lesson.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > 

Lunch hour came rather fast for a Monday. Lindsay dug through her backpack until she pulled out the lunch her mother packed for her that morning. She met up with Santana and travelled to the small cafeteria, where they found a vacant table to sit down.

"Honestly! Did you understand those damn graphs?" Santana asked.

"The graphs! I didn't understand what Mrs. Hawk was saying! It's like she was speaking another language!" Lindsay took out her turkey and lettuce sandwich, "why do we have to learn logarithmic functions anyway? It's not like we are gonna use them."

"'Cause mathematics like to screw with teenagers' lives," said a different voice.

A seventeen year old boy, with deep brown eyes, chestnut hair and wearing a blue shirt and black pants, stood behind Lindsay. His hair was styled in a buzz cut and from the look of his body frame, he seemed physically fit.

"Oh, hey Zack. Pull up a seat," Lindsay invited, taking a bite of her sandwich.

Zack sat down beside the red head and grinned, "I know what you mean about Hawk. I had her for math last semester, she's a speed demon."

Lindsay groaned, "Tell me about it."

Santana was swallowing last night's pasta from a container when she looked at Zack, "Where's your lunch?"

He shrugged, "Forgot it. Woke up late this morning and I had to haul ass to get to school on time."

Zack cross country skied to school everyday—a trip that took twenty minutes there and back. He was also a member of the town's soccer team, so when he wasn't playing in the spring, cross country skiing kept him fit all winter. He had moved to Twin Lake School about six years ago since it was a shorter distance compared to the school in Bookshell and at he same time, had met Lindsay and Santana. Zack had no knowledge of Morgan and for a while now, Lindsay had been debating if she should tell him. Zack was a trustworthy friend, but she still wasn't sure if she could fully confide in him with a deep secret like that.

"I can split half of my lunch if you want," offered Lindsay.

Zack shook his head, "No, that's alright. I'll buy somethin' later."

Santana slurped her pasta, "You sure you wanna do that? Last time I bought food here, I swore it winked at me."

Zack laughed, "Eh, if I can handle my sister's cooking, I'm pretty sure I can handle cafeteria food."

Santana smiled and went back to meal, when she felt a tap on her left shoulder. She turned and saw no one there, but when she heard a familiar chuckle, she snapped her head to the right.

"I hate it when you do that Collin."

The Metis teenager, with light brown skin, dark chestnut eyes, short black hair and wearing a bright red Fox t–shirt and dark blue jeans, sat down beside Santana with a ham sub sandwich in his hand. He put his arm around Santana's shoulders and gave a grin.

"And that's why I keep doin' it."

Collin grunted when he received and elbow in the ribs as she went back to her lunch. Santana and Collin had been dating for nearly eight months and was also a close friend to the trio. Like Zack, he didn't know about Morgan and Santana would never tell him unless Lindsay said it was alright, or if she wanted to tell him first.

"So wha'd I miss?" asked Collin.

"Nothin' much, just rantin' about Hawk," answered Santana.

"Ah, the 'math demon'. What're you guys doin' now?"

Lindsay spoke through a mouthful of granola bar, "Logarithmic functions."

"Uh oh, you guys are really in for it. She's gonna make you work your asses off."

"That's sugar coating it, Collin," said Zack, knowing he too was a victim of Mrs. Hawk's teaching.

"Yah know, it just warms our hearts knowin' you boys are there to encourage us all the way," Lindsay said sarcastically.

"Of course," Collin said with his head held high.

"What are friends for?" added Zack.

Both boys received elbows in the gut from the girls and the four of them laughed while the lunch hour continued.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

Garret waited impatiently for the last bell to ring. It had been a tedious day, now that the class project had begun with the novel, Maniac Magee. It wasn't too bad of a story, but the class had been given two pages of questions to complete and that was the last thing Garret wanted to do. He twiddled with his pencil and watched the clock in annoyance. 'Why can't it go faster?' he thought. Forced himself not to make a noise because it was "quiet working time" and if he made a disturbance, he would have to stay after class as punishment. He turned to the front of the room and saw his teacher stare at him with a cocked eyebrow. The ten year old immediately looked down and pretended to work on his questions.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the school bell rang and the class sprang into action. Garret quickly closed his notebook, grabbed his Maniac Magee novel and ran though the jumble of grade fives to the open lockers at the back of the classroom. He threw his books into his knapsack, slipped on his coat and took a glance at the door. The boy didn't see his sister there and he knew he had more time to get ready. By the time had he reached for his helmet, Martin was at his side.

"Hey, wanna practise Hunter in the playground?"

"I can't, family supper t'night."

"Oh, okay, maybe tomorrow then. Bye!"

Martin was out the door by the time Garret zipped his jacket. He slung his backpack over one arm and dashed out the door to the boot rack so he could pick up his boots. With his footwear in one hand and helmet in the other, Garret scuttled as fast as he could through the mob of parents and children. He pushed through the double doors and turned to find his Lindsay still packing her backpack. From the looks of it, she had a lot of math homework. Garret shuffled to his sister, already feeling hot.

"Hurry up Lindsay! Nicki 's giving out his presents today!"

The red head groaned, "Calm down Speedy Gonzales, Nicki won't be home 'til five."

But Garret only continued to pester his sister to hurry and before Lindsay could take any more of it, Zack appeared on the scene, dressed in a bright green coat and gray toque.

"Am I interrupting?" he asked.

"No, no, please interrupt," Lindsay looked down at her little brother, "Garret, go wait outside, you look hot."

He was in fact starting to sweat and gladly turned to the direction of the quad, but not before singing the most well known and annoying of songs.

"Zack and Lindsay sittin' in a tree! K–I–S–S–I–N–G!"

Lindsay couldn't stop herself from blushing with embarrassment as she stared at her brother in anger, "Garret!"

But he only continued his ditty until he disappeared at the end of the hall. Lindsay faced Zack, really wishing her face didn't feel so warm.

"Sorry 'bout that."

Zack laughed, "Don't be sorry, when I was Garret's age I did that to my sister when she was goin' out with her boyfriend."

Lindsay smiled a bit as she took the elastic from her hair, "Well, he won't have the last laugh. I plan on making the ride home extra bumpy for him."

Zack chuckled before he spoke again, "You know, I can give you the number of my tutor if you're still struggling with math."

Lindsay blinked, a little surprised but flattered, "Thank–you Zack, I'll consider it. But I think I'll ask Nicki for help. He had to take a lot of math and calculus classes in university, so he should be able to help me."

"Oh yeah, I heard he came back yesterday."

"Yup, he did."

Zack adjusted the straps of his backpack in his shoulders, "Well, tell him I said hi, I should go get my skiis. This'll probably be the last week for me to ski, the snow in the ditches is disappearing," he went down the hallway to the gym's equipment room, where he was allowed to keep his skiis, "see yah in band class tomorrow."

"Later!"

Lindsay whipped her jacket on, grabbed her helmet and closed her locker. After snapping the lock back in place she slung her knapsack over one shoulder and walked to the doors, while she placed the helmet over her head and tightened the straps under her chin. She scrunched her face when her skin met the cold air of the outdoors and found Garret already sitting on the machine, wriggling with impatience. Lindsay swung her leg over the seat, inserted the key into the ignition and gave it a quick turn. When the machine started, the red head pressed on the ignition and made a hard right, causing Garret to flail his arms before grabbing onto the support bars on the sides. As Lindsay promised, it was a rough ride home.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

Morgan grumbled at the last English question on his quiz. _After Scout's first day of school, what was the lesson she learned to better understand her teacher?_ He was suppose to read three chapters of To Kill a Mockingbird, but he didn't read the last chapter and he was sure the answer to the question was there. Morgan squinted his eyes to read the question again, already they were beginning to hurt from the strain.

"Five more minutes Morgan," said his mother, who was in the kitchen preparing the family dinner.

Morgan clicked his mandibles nervously and rumbled deep in his throat. He hated leaving questions blank, but what could he write? Finally he scribbled down, _Scout got her teacher to talk about her feelings _and left it at that. He heard his mother's footsteps come into the living room.

"Finished Morgan?"

"Uh huh."

Annie took the test away from him and slipped it into a folder.

"Good, I'll check it over tonight, then we'll look over it tomorrow. Your lessons are done for the day."

Morgan was more than happy to hear that. He got out the chair and went into the music room, but not before taking his sheets that he had left on the chesterfield during his lunch break. He had thought of the perfect notes for a verse in his song and he wanted to write it down while it was still fresh in his mind. The alien pressed down on the ivory keys and experimented with the high keys, then incorporated a different rhythm with the bass keys. He managed to get a solid rhythm down, but it still sounded rusty. He quickly wrote down the notes on the sheet, the melody on the treble clef score and the chords on the bass clef.

Morgan's sensitive ears picked up the roar of the four wheeler and he knew Lindsay and Garret were home. He stopped playing and sighed. There were times when he wished he could stop hiding and go to school like his siblings, to attend events like dances, sports games, festivals, even do something as simple as going to the market. Morgan was not allowed to venture outside the family property, but sometimes during the summers he would slip off the boundary and look over the busy life of the town from the safety of the tree tops. If he felt ambitious enough, he would sneak into the interior of the tiny city and climb to the roofs of the buildings to watch the humans, always wishing he could look exactly like them and not some yellow skinned, mandibled giant. The townsfolk had no idea how lucky they were able to travel freely through the streets, even his own siblings took something like that for granted.

Morgan growled and tightened his fists, he felt frustration begin to build in his chest. He found himself, once again, despising his monstrous appearance. He even started to feel both yearning and contempt for those around him. The alien groaned and relaxed his hands, immediately regretting about thinking such thoughts. He owed a lot to his family, they saw past his physical differences and accepted him as one of their own. He loved his family very much and had never felt more blessed to be a part of them.

"Hello!"

Lindsay's greeting echoed through the house as she and Garret stepped inside.

"Hello my children, how was school?" asked Annie from the kitchen.

Lindsay answered that it was fine, but Garret quickly stripped off his outerwear and took off to tell his mother about the day's events. Lindsay hung her own jacket and went to the kitchen, catching the faint trill of the piano from the music room. The red head sniffed the air.

"Mmmm, what's cookin'?"

Annie patted Garret's curly head when he finished his story.

"Greek ribs. I've been saving them in the freezer for an occasion like this."

Lindsay smiled, "Great! My favourite!"

Annie smiled back and went back to her preparations while Lindsay walked to the music room and found her adopted brother rapidly write on his music sheet, then continue playing.

"That brought a tear to my eye," grinned the red head.

Morgan stopped pressing the keys and turned around on the bench, "Yeah right, it sounds like a dying cat.

"Well, that dying cat sounded pretty good," she stepped into the room and looked at the page, "what yah writin'?"

Morgan snatched the page away from her view and folded it, "New song, not done yet."

"What's it about?"

"You'll see one day."

Lindsay shrugged, "Fine, whatever."

She turned from her brother to leave him with his music. She plopped herself down in front of the TV and turned it on, looking to see if anything was worth watching before she started her homework.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

The tiny fires of two, white candles licked the air as the Cormacs sat around the dinner table. The top was covered with a white cloth and dishes of ribs, green salad, mashed potatoes, slices of french bread and a fruit bowl, full of dark purple grapes , slices of red apples and a mound of sweet strawberries. Nicki continued to tell his university stories while he filled his plate for the third time with ribs. For once, he out ate Morgan, who had always consumed the most amount of food in the family. Nicki wiped his hands free of rib seasoning on his serviette before looking to his mother.

"Mom, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to taste your excellent cooking again! For once, I feel full."

Annie grinned, "I'm very happy you're enjoying it. You looked quite thin after getting off the plane."

Lindsay spoke through a mouthful of salad, "Is rez food really that bad?"

"Well, no," Nicki replied, "but you kinda get tired of the preheated and overcooked meals they give every year," he paused, "now where was I?"

Morgan licked grease from the ribs off his fingers before reaching for the grapes on his plate, "You were talking about your bowling night with your rez group."

Nicki's eyes brightened, "Oh yeah! So my buddy Phil is up, right, and he has one pin standing, but only one throw left. Nobody in the group believed he could knock it down, so my other friend, Jeffery, made a bet that if Phil made the shot, he would pay for everyone's drinksand if Phil didn't make it, then he would have to buy the beer. So, Phil takes the betgoes up to throw. In his wind up, he actually stepped on his own shoelace and started to fall! You should have seen him, his one arm flailed all over the place like a wounded pelican and the other was practically dragging on the floor! But even with all that stumbling, Phil managed to push the ball into the lane before he fell flat on his face. All of us laughed, until we watched the path of the bowling ball. I'm not kidding, by some dumb luck the ball actually hit the last pin! I never knew Jeffery's jaw could drop so low!"

Everyone laughed along with Nicki and once everyone quieted down, Jack raised his wine glass.

I'd like to propose a toast," he waited until everyone took up their glasses, "to Nicki, for flyin' home safely for the holidays and for successfully delivering supplies to Nistowiak Falls on his first day as a bush pilot."

Smiles and murmurs of agreement circled the table as the family clinked each others' glasses before drinking from them. Annie glanced at Morgan's plate.

"You didn't eat much of your salad Morgan."

"I can't eat anymore, my stomach is starting to hurt."

She nodded her understanding, "Alright, that's fine."

As one would imagine, it had been very hard finding food Morgan could eat when he was growing up. Eating certain foods, such as vegetables, would either cause him to vomit until there was nothing left, or force him to stay in bed with terrible belly aches. Gradually, he and his family learned that he could consume many kinds of meats, foods with high protein and fruits. He was able to eat some grain and dairy products without any bad effects, but it was the vegetables that gave him the most grief. Morgan had never liked vegetables in the first place, he mostly ate them to satisfy his mother.

The family talked for another half and hour until the dishes were put away and dessert was served. Triple chocolate cake, with caramel spread, white fudge frosting and served with vanilla ice cream; Nicolas's favourite. The university student spoke again, this time about final projects in his engineering classes, while his family forked moist cake into their mouths. Garret, in particular, was balancing big pieces on his fork and stuffing them into his gapping mouth, getting frosting and crumbs stuck around his lips. Morgan quietly ate his cake as he listened to his older brother speak, once again feeling grateful that his stomach did not reject chocolate or any other kind of sweet.

By the time the candles had melted away half their wax, the Cormacs were sitting back in their chairs, sighing out their satisfied appetites; all except Morgan and Garret, who were eating their second helping of chocolate cake.

"Well, that was a lovely dinner," Annie said while she sipped her coffee.

Nicki smiled, "It's not over yet mom."

"Yo gettin' ou' giffs Nicki?" asked Garret though a mouthful.

"Garret, don't talk with your mouth full," Annie said automatically.

Nicki laughed, "You're right midget, excuse me a moment."

Morgan stopped eating and felt excitement rise in his chest as his brother left the table. The alien forced himself to stay still in his seat when Nicki came back with a large, drawstring bag, then begin to hand out wrapped parcels one by one. Jack was first and his present was a new pair of soft, brown moccasin slippers to wear around the house; something he needed since his old ones were getting worn. Annie got two, new pairs of black, fuzzy gloves and a blue, lightweight windbreaker that had fleece lining the inside. She had been requesting the jacket for a long time, but the gloves were an unexpected and pleasing addition. Garret received a Super Mario Brothers video game for his Nintendo and Lindsay's present was a beautiful silver and black pendent, carved in the shape of a softball player that hung on a leather string, plus a book, entitled The Life of Pi, by Yann Martel. Her friends had told her it was an amazing book and she had been dying to read it. As a family gift, Nicki gave them the second season of Corner Gas on DVD. The young man gave one last look around the table.

"Okay, that's everyone."

Morgan let out an irritated growl and hiss, barely able to hold down his urge to tackle his brother. Annie and Jack gave their son a look.

"Nicki," they both warned in unison.

The young man laughed, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Don't worry. Your suspense is finally over Morgan, here you go."

He pulled out a long, brown wrapped package from the bag and gave it to Morgan. The alien took it from his hands and furiously ripped at the wrapping with his talons. He pulled open the lid of the box and suddenly stopped, gazing wide eyed at his gift.

"What is it Morgan?" Garret asked, leaning on the top of the table.

Morgan very delicately held up the black polished scabbard of a katana in both of his large hands, as if it were made of glass. A fierce silver dragon was finely carved into the ebony sheath, it's body curling around the whole length, to where it's long, sharp toothed maw layed gapping at the tip. The caps on the end of the scabbard and handle was of bright silver and etched into a detailed image of a dragon head. Bright red material was wrapped tightly around the long handle and the black hand guard of the blade had carved images of twisting branches and golden Mongolia flowers. Morgan was so awe struck, he almost had to will himself to pull out the katana from it's scabbard. The unsharpened, polished steel glinted in the light as it showed off a waving pattern that climbed up on both sides of the blade. Morgan swung the katana a few times, testing it's weight and balance before he tenderly slipped it back into the scabbard. Morgan kept his astonished look as he turned to Nicki, who still had a smile upon his face. It took a while for the alien to find his voice.

"Nicki," he gasped breathlessly, "how...where did you get a katana like this?"

"One of my classmates, who is an amazing sword maker and metal smith, was having trouble with his calculus class and asked me if I could tutor him for the whole year. As payment, I asked him to make a special katana, just for you."

Morgan put the sword down and lifted his brother off the floor in a tight hug. This time, Nicki was prepared for it and had placed his arms in front of his body so he wouldn't get crushed.

"Thank–you so much Nicki! I've been wanting a katana for the longest time!"

Annie spoke up, "But you are only allowed to use the sword outside, Morgan. I don't want you swinging it in here and break something or hurt someone."

Morgan set down his older brother, "You don't have to worry mom, and thank you again Nicki."

With supper ended, the rest of the dishes and left over dessert was put away and the family hung around the dwelling until it was time to go to bed. However, Morgan found it hard to fall asleep. He sat in his large bed, propped up with a thick pillow, staring intently at his katana. He caressed the carvings on the scabbard with the tip of his claw, then pulled it off the blade to admire the craftsmanship of the steel. As he ran his thumb along the edge of the dull blade, he suddenly felt a strong urge to sharpen it. Morgan stopped his movements, why would he want to sharpen it? He wasn't going to use the sword against anything. Maybe to practise a few martial exercises he had read and watched from movies, but nothing more.

Morgan resumed thumbing the edge and unconsciously sunk deeper into his urge, blinking slower and tightening his grip around the handle. He stared at the steel as if he were memorised by it's supernatural glow. The alien polished the thin blade between his taloned fingers, feeling it become warm and smooth from his heat. He found himself slipping into an empty space in his mind, where there was nothing but him and the sword. Without realising it, Morgan made a rumble so low that his chest vibrated. He started thinking about what it would be like to cut something with a freshly sharpened blade; something soft, something warm, something alive and...

Morgan suddenly snapped out of his trance and panted heavily as if he had woken from a nightmare. His arm went limp and he let the katana drop on the bed, forgetting it completely. He felt his body shake as he placed both hands on his head. Where in heaven and hell did those thoughts come from! Why were these urges making him think of murderous deeds! Why was he having them and what do they mean! Morgan growled and whimpered in defeat, rattling his tusks together as he lowered his oval head until it touched his knee caps. He felt more bewildered than ever. 'Who am I?' he thought to himself, 'what am I? What in God's name was wrong with me!' He stayed curled like that until he lifted his head, feeling his nerves calm slightly as he took in deep breaths, now starting to wonder; did he really want to know the true meaning of his "killer instinct"? Did he want to find out why he had an unnatural urge for weaponry and hunting? Did he really want...?

Morgan gave a small bark and shut his eyes, sensing a head ache begin to form while he tried to shut out the building questions and settle his restless mind. After what seemed like a long time, he opened his eyes and glanced at his weapon, feeling the urge rise again. He quickly put it back into the scabbard, then leaned it against the wall beside his bed. The alien turned his back to it and pulled the covers over his shoulders. Morgan clicked his mandibles nervously, now questioning if owning the katana, or going on the up coming hunting trip with his uncle, was such a great idea.

_(massages my fingers) Whew! I'm beat! That was a lot of typing. But it's worth it! I hope you enjoyed this long chapter. Thanks again everyone for being so patient with me and I wish you all a great summer! Remember to review! _


	7. On Their Way

_Hey fans! Sorry again for the long wait. I now have to work on these stories with my new summer job. Anyway, on with the next chapter!_

In a massive blanket of black covered with tiny dots of light, a grey, shell shaped object flew silently through the emptiness. Light, blue flame trailed out the back of the ship and pushed it through space as if it were in water. Inside the cruiser, fog hovered over the floor of the corridors, sometimes snaking over the intricate designs along the walls or around the feet of a passing male warrior. Within a small, dark room, the Hunter sat on a firm cushion with his legs crossed, back straight, eyes closed and hands folded over his lap. A stick of incense burned under a great, ebony statue of Paya, the Holy Mother. She sat proudly on a grand throne, dressed in long silks and wore a headdress carved out of gold and ivory. In her right hand, she held a double bladed _Naginata, _symbolising the strength and purity of the Warrior; in her left, she held the _Tablet of the Hunter_, which carried the Sacred Codes of the Warrior.

According to ancient holy writings, Paya was once a mortal being and the world she lived in was full of chaos and disorder. Her species were born hunters, but having no knowledge of honour, they hunted and killed each other for sport, revenge and pleasure. Paya was the only one who saw how barbaric her people were and took it upon herself to lead them out of their savage ways.

She was like a mother to her people. She taught her children how to fight for honour and glory and instructed them in the ways of hunting suitable prey; she taught them how to use their natural resources to create grand monuments and cities. The gods in the heavens became greatly pleased with Paya's work and they came before her one day while she was meditating in the Sacred Forest. As a gift for her great service, the gods blessed with long life and the knowledge of astronomy. She was instructed by the gods to pass on her new knowledge to her children; for it was her people's destiny to hunt prey and seek honour on other worlds. Paya followed the god's commands and after a thousand years, the Yautja became intelligent enough to create ships that carried them into space, for filling their fate.

When Paya lay dying at the age of over three thousand years, the gods sent Cetanu, the God of Death—also known as the Black Warrior who wins all battles—and he bestowed on her his immortality and the power to create life. She then rose to the heavens on a path a fire and water to a throne of gold, where she now sits and watches over her children. As a final gift to her children, Paya took a great slab of diamond and used her talons to carve the Sacred Codes onto it, creating the _Tablet of the Hunter_ so that the Yautja would never forget what she had taught them.

The smoke of the incense curled around the beautiful features of the Goddess and floated around the Hunter as he continued his meditation. His breathing was slow and constant, taking in the spicy aroma as he fell deeper into the tranquillity. But his senses were not lowered, he was aware of everything around him. His father had gone to great lengths to train his son's sixth sense to be the sharpest of all. As an Unblood, he had been encouraged to take regular meditations to better focus his mind and body. Often in the middle of them, his father would quietly slip into the room, armed with a heavy, wooden practise sword. If the presence went unnoticed, his father would hit him in the back of the head with the sword, sometimes so hard he would be unconscious for hours. When the young Warrior eventually woke, his father would look down at him disapprovingly, reminding him again and again to be aware of every sound, every movement and every smell, even during the most isolated of times. It had cost the Hunter many concessions to bring his sixth sense out, even after he had completed his _Kainde Amedha Chiva_. But once he did, not even a mite went unnoticed.

The Warrior continued his mediation for another few minutes, then slowly came out of it by speeding his breathing and opening his eyes. He let the last of the incense burn out, rose from his seat, bowed to the statue and spoke an ancient _kantra_ to his Goddess before leaving the room. He felt more centred and relaxed, yet he had the strangest feeling deep inside his chest. During his rumination, he had witnessed strange, smoky images; sort of what one experiences just before falling asleep. But they were too fuzzy to make out. Paya was trying to tell him something, but what? The feeling in his chest told him the message was important, possibly life changing. He stepped out into the fog filled corridor and turned to the right to head for his quarters, the moist air waking his senses even more. As the Hunter walked, he could smell the different musks of his companions that travelled along with him. There were thirty–two other warriors on the great ship, all under the guidance under a female Elder. She was a good leader, stern, commanding and very intelligent; well, she would have to be to keep control of so many male hunters ranging from different ranks and ages. The Warrior was one of the few hunters she had little trouble with. He mostly kept to himself and often spent his free hours training in the _kehrite_. It was no surprise that the Hunter had an almost none existent social life.

Having friends meant little to the Warrior. His dream in life was to become an Elder and teach the greatest warrior in Yautja history. Thus, he pushed himself to develop his battle skills and obtain more trophies to raise his rank. Even though he had incredibly gifted abilities in the was of hunting and weaponry, his personality was hard, unfair and extremely unreadable. He stayed firm in his beliefs and teachings, never changing them and never wanting them to.

The Hunter passed a group of young males, not bothering to notice them as he turned from the main corridor and travelled through a short hallway until he came to a closed, sliver door. He waved his hand over a scanning pad and stepped inside his quarters. All it contained was a single bed, shelving for his belongings and a small bathroom. The largest wall in the room held his trophies, his latest the pachyderm skull, now gleaming like polished ivory. The Hunter gave a long sigh as he sat on the end of the bed. In one month the ship was scheduled to enter the ooman planet's system, where he would begin the lone hunt he had been preparing himself for the last several weeks. He stared at the floor in thought, maybe Paya was trying to tell him something about the hunt. Maybe, this was going to be the hunt of a lifetime.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

The June sun still shone brightly in the cloudless sky, even as it began to set in the west, it made the air very hot and dry; not a single breeze blew to cool Lindsay's body. At least it was too hot for mosquitoes, but she would rather be covered in bug spray than sun screen, and her navy softball uniform with the word _Storm_ written in bold red letters on the front and the number fifteen on the back, made the heat even worse. She adjusted her visor and ball glove as she shifted uncomfortably back and forth on her cleats, sometimes kicking up a tuft of grass. Left field was quite a boring position, she would rather have been playing shortstop or third base, but the original fielder couldn't make it to the game and she had to sub in for her.

Twin Lake had three major softball leagues. The Bantam Team for ages thirteen and under, the Midget Team, for fourteen to seventeen and the Women's League for eighteen and up. Lindsay played for the Women's League, which consisted a total of fifteen, talented players. In town, it was very rare for one her age to join the _Storm_, as the team was considered quite competitive. However, in her third and final year of playing Midget ball, Lindsay wanted to challenge her abilities decided to try out for the Women's League. The coach, Shayne, was very impressed with Lindsay's dedication, speed and agility and accepted her on the team as the youngest player.

Right now, it was the bottom of the seventh inning, two out, with a runner on second and third base and the _Strom_ was winning five to four against the _Crusaders_. Their team colours were green and white, and they were one of the top competitive ball teams in the league. So far, no team had been able to beat them and the pressure to win the game weighed heavily on both sides. The _Storm's_ pitcher, Wendy, was looking very tired and slightly pained. She had pitched the entire game and only needed two more strikes to get the batter out, but it was obvious that the tendinitis in her shoulder was acting up. However, like a true athlete, she forced her pain away and concentrated on her next pitch. Coach Shayne, watched in silent anxiousness as Wendy wound up and windmilled the ball across the plate.

"Ball three," said the umpire.

The infield rose from their crouched positions, some of them making long sigh to rid them of their nervous stomach aches as they chattered encouragement to their hard working pitcher.

"Good mix, Wendy!"

"She's thinkin', you got her thinkin'!"

"Next pitch is yours, Wendy!"

Lindsay pulled down the legs of her sliding shorts, hating the wedgie feeling it gave her in the hot weather, but she had to keep focussed. Wendy wiped sweat that poured down her face and she took a deep breath before stepping back onto the mound. The batter received the signal from her third base coach and stepped back into the box. Wendy shut out everything around her as she stared down the plate. In one, fluent motion, she whirled her arm around and threw the ball. The batter swung and missed the pitch completely, the ball making a very loud smack in the catcher's mitt.

"STRIKE!" shouted the umpire as he raised a clenched fist into the air.

The _Storm_ cheered happily.

"Yeah Wendy!"

"You got 'er now!"

"Ata' hum it in there, Wendy!"

"One more like that girl, you got her!"

This was the final moment, the next pitch would determine a strike out, a hit or walk to first base. An equal amount of pressure was put on Wendy and the batter and it only seemed to build as time slowly ticked by. The signals were given, and all players stood ready. Lindsay shifted back and forth on her feet, mentally willing Wendy to throw the batter out. The pitcher took a few moments and with a loud grunt, the ball was thrown inside. The batter swung...

_**CRACK!**_

The bright, yellow sphere soared high into the air, heading towards left field. Lindsay's eyes widened and her feet sprang into action. She ran forward as fast as she could, already seeing the ball begin to plummet to the ground. She could not let that happen! She had to catch that ball, the game depended on it! She forced her legs to run faster, stretching her glove out as far as she could, already feeling herself fall forward. Everything seemed to slow down and all sounds became deathly silent as the red headed teen used her volleyball skills to push off her feet, extend in midair and spread her glove wide open. Yes! She had it! SHE HAD IT! Lindsay's sharp eyes watched the ball fall into her glove and she contorted her body into a shoulder roll...when the ball suddenly fell out! The teen, unable to stop her motion, watched helplessly as it touched the ground. Time went back to normal and a massive roar erupted from both sides. The two base runners pumped their arms and legs hard as they could to make their way around the bases towards home plate. Lindsay hardly felt the impact on the ground as she expertly rolled herself to her feet and hastily grabbed at the ball.

"HOME! HOME! HOME!" shouted one of her teammates.

But Lindsay knew it was already too late. By the time the ball left her hand, the last runner was already half way home. The catcher didn't even bother to crouch in front of the plate when the ball finally made it to her. The game was over, the _Storm_ had lost. 'And it was all my fault,' Lindsay thought bitterly, now panting and sweating even more from the sprint. She kept her head down as she forced herself to jog back to the bench. All the teen wanted to do was wither away into nothing, even when her teammates patted her back and gave kind words to soothe her. Normally, she would shrug off such feelings of failure after a short while, but the sweltering weather only seemed to make them last longer.

After both teams cheered for each other and shook hands, they went back to their benches to pack their gear. Lindsay threw her belongings into her bag, cursing under her breath. She suddenly felt a hand on her back and looked up to see her coach.

"Hey Lindsay, that was a very good attempt! Keep that up and you might be promoted to another position on the team," he said kindly.

"Thanks Shayne," Lindsay grumbled.

"Don't worry about it Lindsay, I'm not at all upset about this game. This team should've been beating us from the very beginning and they really had to pull their heads outta their asses to get back in gear. We played very well and I'm proud of you and the rest of the girls. We taught the _Crusaders _a lesson, for sure."

The red head sighed and gave a nod before whipping her visor off, feeling her thick hair fluff out. 'But the lesson would have been better taught if she _did_ catch the damn ball.' she thought, feeling even worse. Groaning, she took off her cleats and knee high socks, then slipped her thongs over her bare feet. The air felt cooler, now that the sun had lowered even more, but the teen still felt hot and grimy. Lindsay slung the strap of her ball bag over her shoulder and stood for a moment when she heard Shayne speak.

"Excellent performance girls, I wanna see that next game! Remember, it's on Thursday at St. Catherine Park. See yah there and rest up."

Team _Storm_ dispersed to their own directions, giving each other good–byes and last congratulations as they left. Lindsay said her last praises to Wendy, who now had an ice pack on her shoulder, before she headed through the field to the quad. Some of her disappointment remained as she strapped her bag onto the back of the machine. She was only glad that her parents were not able to watch the game, since they had both gone out of town to look for lumber to replace the rotting boards of the veranda. Nicki was currently at home working on some kind of project, along with Garret and Morgan. With a sigh, Lindsay swung her leg over the seat, started the ignition and drove the quad through the gravel parking lot and onto the road into town.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > 

Morgan swung his katana around his head and made a sharp downward cut through the air, holding the blade in both hands at forty–five degree angle. He parried and thrust at his imaginary opponent, moving back and forth with perfect balance on his bare feet. Sweat formed on his oval head as he twirled the blunt blade up, down and side to side, moving along the grass with the grace of a samurai. He then finished his exercise by spinning around once, lunging forward and slashing is sword in a wide arc, his katana held out to the side in both hands. Morgan straightened himself and sheathed his weapon, coming back to reality. He gazed around the green backyard for a moment before taking out the elastic that held back his thick hair. He felt energised, even though he had spent the last hour exercising in the hot sun with his katana. Well, actually the weather was perfect for him. Today was one of those rare days when he could wear a short sleeved shirt, shorts and nothing on his feet. He gave a great sigh and stepped over Daisy, who was dozing on her side on the shady grass, then walked through the screen door. Once he was in the kitchen he grabbed himself a tall glass, filled it with fruit punch and in three great gulps, it was gone. He wanted to put his remaining energy into good use and he decided to go to Nicki. Now that he had graduated and was back home to stay, at least until he could find a place to live on his own, Morgan spent much of his free time with his older brother to make up for the four years lost while he was in university.

The alien carefully placed his weapon on a stand in his room, then slipped on his large sandals before walking to the opened garage where Nicki was working. For the last few hours, Nicki had been repairing part of a Beaver water plane engine in a special area set off for him. Too keep cool while he worked, he wore a loose, white t–shirt, khaki shorts and had a small fan going. He was finishing tightening a screw, when he heard Morgan's clicking and he raised his head with a smile.

"Oh, hey Red," he greeted before yawning and rubbing his eyes, "what's up?"

Morgan shrugged, "Nothin' much. I was wondering if you were up for some climbing."

"Sure, I could use a break."

The alien clicked his mandibles in eagerness as he went to one of the shelves that held the climbing gear. He pulled out the plastic container and took two sets of ropes, harnesses, Gri–Gris with a thin sling attached and one chalk bag. Nicki put away his tools and cleaned up his area slightly before standing and grabbing his rock shoes on the shelf below.

"Yah ready, Red?"

Morgan nodded and handed his older brother his gear, "Always ready for climbing."

The two of them walked out of the garage and ventured towards the main path in the giant woodland. As they travelled, a slight breeze blew through the tall fir trees, causing the warm scents of mint, moss and pine to fill the air. The rays of the late afternoon sun shone in gold streaks through the gaps of the woods, dancing on the green ground as the tree branches waved back and forth. From far away, a squirrel chittered a long call, mingling with the heavy footsteps of Nicki and Morgan and the clattering of their rock climbing gear. After a ten minute walk, a thin trail marked with a bright, orange ribbon appeared on the left and lead up a forested slope. Morgan ventured first and Nicki followed behind, since the path was just big enough to let one person in at a time. The climb up hill was a rough one, as there were many fallen logs and rocks jutting out of the trail. Morgan couldn't help chuckling to himself when he caught the winded noises of his brother behind him. Half way up, the alien looked over his shoulder.

"How are yah doin' there Nick?"

"Oh fine, no worries."

They finally reached the top of the slope and found themselves looking at the trail curve around large boulders before going back uphill again. Morgan grinned playfully.

"Race yah!"

Before Nicki could say anything, his younger brother was off in a run. Down the other side he went, bounding over the giant rocks with as little as two leaps, until he sprinted over the slop and disappeared in the blink of an eye. Nicki only sighed and took off into a light jog, weaving in between the boulders instead of vaulting them. When it came to smooth landings, he was better at making them with planes rather than his feet. By the time Nicki got to the destination, Morgan was already unloading his gear.

The ridge was basically a hundred foot high, rock wall, with birch, jack pine and trembling aspen trees growing on the top and around the edges. In front of the massive rock, where Morgan stood, was a small clearing of dirt and moss. Three rows of anchors were bolted into the rock face under the most suitable stations for sport climbing. Each station was marked with a line of quickdraws that were also secured into the rock and only one of the stations went all the way up to the top, while the other two reached the seventy foot mark. Morgan proceeded to slip on his harness and tightened it around his legs and waist. He normally never wore a harness or used a rope when he climbed the ridge; mostly because he had an amazing grip on the rock and didn't find it thrilling to have the safety gear. But today, he felt like hanging on the rock wall. The alien turned to Nicki, who gave a shrug.

"You win."

"C'mon Nick, you could've at least given me a challenge."

"You'll get it when we climb."

Nicki knew it wasn't true, Morgan was a way better climber than any human. Morgan thread the climbing rope through the GriGri and clipped it to the carabineer on his harness. He then slipped the sling over his head and tightened it around his neck so the GriGri hung securely against his chest. Lastly, he attached the rope to the anchor at the bottom of one of the seventy–foot stations and thread it through the GriGri. He made a few test pulls to make sure the mechanism broke and flowed properly, then clipped the rest of the rope to his harness. Morgan turned to his brother, who had just finished tying his climbing shoes and his harness. Nicki waved his hand.

"Go ahead Red, you can start without me."

Morgan gave a nod and a smile, then kicked off his sandals before turning to the wall. He preferred to climb barefoot and the rocky face never cut his feet due to his thick soles. The alien dug his taloned hands into the crevices and with a heave he began his climb. After a few feet, he hooked the bottom rope through the quickdraw, then continued his way up with ease. After about twenty feet, the rock holds were getting smaller and Morgan took the time to stop and wait for Nicki. He dug in two fingers and let his feet dangle so he could hang in midair, his harness tightening around his legs as the GriGri clamped onto the rope. Morgan grinned as he watched his brother climb up the route beside him, panting slightly when he made it to his eye level.

"Tired Nick?"

"No way, I'm just getting warmed up."

The young man climbed past Morgan, quickly attaching his rope to the quickdraw. Morgan followed behind, keeping pace with his brother. When they reached the fifty foot mark, they both decided to stop and hang for a bit. Morgan pressed his feet against the wall as he sat fully in his harness, unafraid of the height and feeling the straps dig into his thighs. He turned his head and gazed at the tops of the dark green trees, feeling the heat of the sun increase. To the alien's vision, the sky looked like a giant blur of red and white, each tree glowed in different shades of blue and occasionally he saw a blur of red, indicating that a bird or squirrel had passed by. Morgan made a soft purr at the warmth, closing his eyes and letting it sink into his bones. Nicki was more concentrated on the beauty that the sun created from his height. Rich colours of gold, orange, pink and red glowed brightly around the watery sun, casting a greenish brown hue over the tree tops. Not a single breath of wind could be felt and the only sounds that were made was the creaking of the climbing ropes, the song of a tiny bird and Morgan's purring. Nicki gave a relaxing sigh.

"I wish you could see what I see Red. It'll take your breath away."

Morgan smiled, "I'll take your word for it, it feels beautiful."

The adopted alien rocked back and forth on his rope, sensing himself drifting off in thought. He suddenly felt a need to speak to his older brother.

"Nicki, can we talk?"

"About what?"

A moment passed before the alien spoke.

"About my...instinct."

Nicki was not surprised that the subject had come up again. They did have a talk about it a while back, but it wasn't very productive. Nicki adjusted himself in his harness before speaking.

"Has your instinct gotten stronger? I've noticed you've been playing Hunter with the boys a lot more."

"No, that's just it. My urges seemed to have lessened."

"Oh?"

"Yeah...you know how much I've been practising with my katana over the last few months, right? Well, ever since my instinct has been easier to control. I feel more comfortable playing Hunter with the boys than before."

Nicki nodded thoughtfully, "I think I'm beginning to understand why."

Morgan looked at his older brother.

"It's no secret Morgan, you have a natural instinct to be a hunter. You have immense strength and stamina, yet you can be unbelievably quiet. You feel most comfortable in high places where you have a wide view of your surroundings and your heat vision gives you a better chance of seeing life forms in a concealing terrain such as this forest. You also have the skills of a warrior, hence your interest in martial arts and weaponry. I think before I gave you the katana, your urges were off balance. Now that you have a weapon to exercise your martial arts, they have evened out slightly. But there's one urge I know you have left to satisfy."

Morgan looked down for a moment, thinking, "So, you think if I go on the hunting trip with Uncle Danny, my urges will be fully balanced and possibly go away?"

Nicki smiled, "They may likely be balanced enough for you to control them, but I doubt your urges will ever go away. The instinct makes you who you are and nobody can ever deny their true selves."

Morgan grunted, "It's kinda hard when you don't know what you are."

Nicki reached out and touched his brother's shoulder, "Morgan I know you're very confused and you have every right to be. But fighting with a powerful instinct such as yours isn't the smartest thing to do. I've always believed you should exercise your natural abilities, to accept them and not be afraid of them."

Morgan felt slightly reassured by his brothers words, but there was still a pang of worry in his stomach. Who's to say he was right or wrong about his theory? The alien saw Nicki being climbing again and he followed behind, feeling his legs tingle when the blood began flowing after he lifted his weight from his harness. The two of them climbed in silence, until Nicki hooked his rope into another quickdraw and looked down.

"You know, little brother, sometimes when we want to know who we really are as a person, we need to go and find it. I honestly think you need to get away from the limitations of home for a while. You're an intelligent being and we have no right to keep you secluded forever. This hunting trip is a perfect chance for you to explore our world even more. And believe me Red, you'll get an incredible experience from it."

Morgan knew that was true. Nicki had gone on the same excursion with Uncle Danny when he had turned seventeen and when he came back, he had changed from the trip. Nicki had not gone into great detail about the trip, mostly because he did not want to spoil the experience for Morgan. The alien sighed.

"All I'm worried about is what will happen when we start the hunt. Will my instinct become so powerful that I won't be able to control it?"

"I highly doubt that. You're a good person Morgan, not a monster. I know you'll never let your instincts take control over you."

It was then Morgan made a large smile feeling a lot better than before. Knowing his older brother, the one he looked up to all his life, had full confidence in him, gave him complete reassurance. Maybe going on the trip wouldn't be so bad after all. The alien looked to the horizon and noticed that the sun had lowered half way behind the trees and the air getting cooler.

"We should probably get back, if you wanna beat the mosquitos."

Nicki glanced at the sky, "Yeah and Lindsay should be home from her game soon. I hope they did well."

The two of them rappel down the ridge on their ropes until they landed gently on the ground. The trees blocked most of the heat from the sun and the cool, wet moss was a perfect breeding area for mosquitos. Morgan could already hear the tiny buzzing of the insects as they unhooked the rope from the quickdraws and packed up their gear. Morgan was never affected by mosquitos and that also included other blood suckers. He didn't know if it was his musk or his blood type that kept them away, but it could have easily been both. Morgan turned to his brother as he took off his climbing shoes and put on his regular ones. He couldn't help grinning when Nicki swatted at mosquito that landed on his arm.

"Thanks for the talk Nicki, it helped."

"Anytime little brother, you know you can always talk to me. And thank you for the climb."

The alien curled his mandibles to a grin as he turned and walked down the path towards home. He went a little faster for Nicki's sake, now that the mosquitos were getting worse. By the time the two emerged from the main path, Morgan saw his sister drive up to the house and park the quad in the gravel driveway. Morgan was about to call out when he noticed a tall dark object in her hand. He also noticed his sister walking a little slower with her head and shoulders slumped as she took her ball bag into the house.

"Uh oh," said Morgan.

"What is it, Red?"

"Bad game, Lindsay has a slurpy."

"Ooooooh," Nicki winced.

The brothers knew if Lindsay had a bad game, she would come home with a Big Gulp slurpy, filled with at least seven different flavours from the Mac's store in town.

"Think it's safe to go inside?" the alien asked.

"Oh come on Red, Lindsay's not that bad," said Nicki as he headed for the garage.

"Have you ever gotten in between her and her slurpy? It's like coming between a lion and a gazelle!"

Nicki put the climbing gear back in it's place.

"Give 'er some credit, Red. If I was playing in blazing hot weather like this, I'd grab a slurpy too."

Morgan sighed, "Don't say I didn't warn yah."

The young man gave his brother a teasing shove on the shoulder before he stepped inside the house. As he expected, Lindsay was sprawled out on the couch, staring at the TV like a zombie and sipping her slurpy with a thick, pink straw as if it were a baby soother. Her hair stuck out in a tangled fuzz, her face had the after glow of sweat, her black uniform clung tightly to her body and her white and black striped ball socks were stained with grass and shale. Nicki approached her and the red haired athlete didn't even bother to look up.

"I'll be sure to have the bathroom reserved for you when you're finished with that Linds," Nicki joked.

He got a blink from her. Nicki walked closer and sat down in a chair. Morgan, who was watching the conversation from behind a corner, was surprised not to see Lindsay glower at Nicki. He saw his brother hang one of his legs over the arm of the chair as he relaxed. Nicki looked at the grass bits stuck in Linday's hair and the stains on her socks.

"You look like you kissed the ground a bit, carrot top."

She sucked on the straw again, staring at the TV, but not watching it, "Mmmhmmm."

"Any proud wounds you like to show me?"

"Nope."

"None at all?"

For the first time, Lindsay moved her eyes and glared at his brother with hard, green eyes.

"Okay, okay, I get it."

Lindsay looked back at the TV.

"Any hits?"

"Yeah."

"How many?"

"One."

"You get on base?"

"Yeah."

"How far did you get?"

"Second."

"Not bad, a double! You get home?"

"Yeah."

"Hey, that's something to be proud of, winning a point for your team."

Lindsay took a big gulp, "I suppose."

"But it could have been better right?"

The red head sighed, "Yeah..."

"How so?"

The teenager shifted on the couch, "If we won."

Nicki chuckled, "Well, I suppose that would be better. But the game couldn't have been that bad."

"Oh, it was."

"Why do you say that?"

Lindsay told her brother about the game and how it ended off with her lost moment. Nicki listen intently.

"Wow, I really wish I was there to watch that game! It sounds like you guys really made the other team work hard. And from your description that was an extremely hard catch. I think it would have shocked everyone if you did catch that ball."

"And that's the irony of it," Lindsay muttered.

"Was everyone mad at you? Did they think it was a big deal that you didn't catch the ball?"

There was a pause.

"No."

"Then don't beat yourself up about it, Linds. Everyone knows you're a great player and one error isn't going to change that. These girls are far too mature for that kind of behaviour."

Nicki did have a point. Playing with girls who were two to eight years older than her did have it's upsides. She received better experience from them, they didn't make a huge deal over errors and were a lot more fun to play with compared to the Midget team. Lindsay didn't feel as upset as before and she took the straw away from her mouth.

"I suppose Nicki, but I'm still upset about missing that catch."

The young man smiled, "I know you are, but you won't be for much longer. I'm upset for missing it," he sighed and sat up, "why don't you take a shower. I'll bet when you come out, you'll feel a lot better."

Lindsay had forgotten how filthy she felt and rolled off the chesterfield. She set her Big Gulp cup on the coffee table and gave a small smile to her brother before leaving the room and heading up the stairs. When the teen had gone, Morgan stepped into the living room and picked up the cup.

"There's still some left! How do you do it Nicki, she always leaves it empty."

"I told you she cooled down," Nicki smiled.

Morgan took a glance up the stairs and listened for the water in the bathroom to turn on, "Well, as long as she's not going to finish it."

Morgan took a huge swig, but immediately regretted it.

"Ugh! Sour apple, Dr. Pepper and...I don't know what! What was she thinking!"

Nicki laughed at his brother's scrunched face, "Probably all the flavours she knew you would hate mixed together."

"Yeah, yeah, yuk it up Nicki," Morgan went to dumb the rest of the slurpy in the sink. It was going to melt anyway. The young man stood from his seat with a grunt.

"Well, I think I'll look over those canvas poles before going back to the engine."

"Canvas poles?"

"Yeah, for the Pow Wow next month. I was asked to weld new canvas poles."

"Oh yeah, that. Have fun."

"Don't I always," Nicki said with a grin as he headed back to the garage.

Morgan gave a great sigh, thinking of nothing else to do, so he went to the music room, plopped himself on the piano and played his newly made song.

_Not my most exciting chapter, but I'm glad to get it out of the way. This weekend my softball team goes to provincials and we have a good chance of winning it this year! Also I'll be away for a week in B.C. visiting relatives, but I'll be working on my stories while I'm there. Thank for your patience and remember to review!_


	8. The Summer of Cultural Gatherings

_Still around fans. I had become somewhat of a hermit with a killer second term of university and I don't want to relive it again. Plus I had to do a large amount of research, which included getting help from my professors, to make sure what I used in his chapter is correct. This chapter describes one of the areas I studied and observed for my Native Studies major_. _I hope you enjoy it!_

The Pow Wow is an important event in the Aboriginal cultures of North America. It is a gathering of Non-Aboriginal and Aboriginal people who come together to celebrate as an international family. While the origin is unknown, the Pow Wow was believed to have immense spiritual powers that could only be released by medicine men or spiritual leaders through song, drums and dance. The circle is the most well known symbol of the Pow Wow; representing equality, interrelations and the circle of life. Today, the Pow Wow does not hold the same spiritual focus, but expresses proud Aboriginal heritage.

Santana stood in the hot sun, shaking nervously in her regalia. She wore a pink, ankle length skirt that hugged around her hips with a belt of purple and dark blue beads in shapes of elongated diamond shapes around her waist. Silver–blue, exploding stars, made of shining silk were stitched around the base of her dress with black thread, while red, purple and blue beads zig–zagged from the top of her waist, all the way to the bottom. She wore soft brown moccasins on her shifting feet, with pink, violet and light blue beads sewn in thick lines that travelled up her foot in a V–shape. Leggings with sky blue diamonds and geometric patterns wrapped around her shins and were decorated with the same coloured beads to match her moccasins. Her hair was braided into pigtails, the ends held in place by a beaded barrette that was shaped to look like the sun. The same sun design hung on her earings and clinging to her sweaty forehead was a rose coloured headdress that had two, long eagle feathers on the back. The pink yolk she wore around her neck layed elegantly down her back and over her breast, displaying a large, single diamond made of mauve cloth and clear glass beads. Around her shoulders hung a beautiful silk shawl, with ten inch satin tassels of different shades of pink, white and purple along the bottom, swaying like grass in the wind. Royal blue, lavender and light red diamond patterns covered the lower half of the shawl in a graceful line, the colours standing out against the silver and dusty rose background. The elaborate colours and patterns Santana wore identified her family's tribal ancestors and no family had the same design.

This was the first year Santana would be representing her family in the Pow Wow by participating in the Fancy Shawl Dance, also known as the "Butterfly Dance". Her older sister had grown out of the age group and the torch was passed on to Santana. Right now, the youth boys Chicken Dance was finishing. The sound of the drums and the song of the singers seemed to be drowned out as she looked anxiously to her feet. It wasn't like she couldn't dance, her sister had taught her well and they always danced together, but this was the first time she would be competing against other small towns in the Pow Wow. Judges from the Northern Aboriginal Community Centre gave cash prizes to the first, second and third place winners by determining who had the most elaborate dress, the style of the dance and how long they could keep a constant pace. Santana didn't care if she won or lost, but she did care about making her family proud. Santana jumped when she felt someone nudge her right shoulder and looked to see Lindsay.

"Hotter than hell out here. Why don't you go under those tents and cool off before you dance?"

She pointed to on of the white canvases that surrounded the football field. Many people, old and young, were sitting under them on park benches, sipping cold beverages purchased from the Concession Tent. Santana could smell hotdogs and burgers cooking on the barbeque. She shook her head.

"No, I'm not hot."

"Well, you look like you're gonna pass out," said another voice.

Santana turned to see Collin and Zack. Collin was in his elegant Grass Dancer regalia. He wore a yoke over his shoulders and an apron around his waist, both coloured dark red and covered with pictures of large, black and white eagle feathers; the edges of the yoke and apron were adorned with many strings of red and white yarn that draped in layers over his shoulders and body. The roach tied on top of his head was made of bright blue, red and yellow porcupine needles and brown elk fur that seemed to spread around his head like mane. Two eagle feathers were attached to a spreader in the middle that bobbed and wove with the movements of his head. The feathers and the porcupine quills represented two warriors battling in the long grass. A beaded headband, with a round shield in the centre stuck to his forehead and on his feet were grey moccasins, displaying a white, red and blue streaks. Rose and black beaded bands hugged under his knees, with white strings of yarn trailing down to the tops of his feet. Clutched in his right hand was a fan made of golden eagle feathers, a choker made of black beads and elk bones circled his neck and strung around his ankles were tiny silver bells. Traditionally Grass Dancers always start the Pow Wow, because they blessed the ground and flattened the grass for the other dancers. He looked as hot as Santana, but was still concerned.

"No, I'm fine," she looked back to the young dancers and listened to the jingle bells attached to their attire as they bobbed their heads and bodies like chickens.

"You nervous?" Zack asked.

"Terrified."

"Why? You're gonna be awesome! I've seen you practise, you'll be able to dance with your eyes closed," said Collin, giving his girlfriend a confident hug.

"I guess," she sighed.

"Trust me, when you go out there and dance, you're gonna kick ass! "Lindsay took out her digital camera, "mind if I take a few pics?"

Even though Santana and Lindsay were best friends, she always asked to take pictures because it was extremely disrespectful to take a photograph of an Aboriginal in dress, without his or her permission.

"Fine. Whatever."

Zack gave the fancy dancer a nudge, "C'mon Santana, cheer up. The sun is shining, the air is sweet...it's gotta be thirty–five degrees out, but it's still a great day for a Pow Wow."

The teen wished Zack had not told her the temperature, now she felt stuffy and heavy. The drummers finished their song with one loud bang and the dance was over. The circle clapped and cheered for the young dancers as the Master of Ceremonies stood up from his seat under a white canvas at the top of the circle. He put the microphone to his mouth, his voice sounding scratchy through the speakers.

"Heyah! Now that was a great Chicken Dancers. Reminds me of the days on grandma's farm...of course you dancers are a lot better lookin' than chickens."

The crowd chuckled as the judges decided the winners.

"Remember dancers, pick up your prizes at the Prize Table just by the Concession Tent and have a drink to cool yourselves down. There is complementary juice and water waiting for you there," said the MC as he picked up a piece of paper from his table, "All senior girl Fancy Shawl Dancers make your way to the circle, we are about to begin. That's all senior girl Fancy Shawl Dancers."

Santana's stomach felt like it had been filled with a giant butterfly. She watched the other dancers move into the circle and she forced herself to take a step.

"Break a leg, Santana!" Lindsay shouted encouragingly.

The Aboriginal teen gave a small smile as she joined the group. She counted nine other dancers in the circle, some of them displaying bright, extravagant colours, while others had simple colour coordination like her regalia. Santana slipped the shawl over her shoulders and looked to see the drummers get ready. Among the group of men was Dr. Grayeyes, dressed in dark jeans, a light brown shirt and a wide cowboy hat. He pushed his sunglasses up his nose and brushed away his long, black braid from his shoulder, gripping the drumming stick in his right hand. Not anyone could be a singer, only those who had been trained with the knowledge of songs could be chosen as a singer. To the left of the singers, Santana noticed the Elder sitting under a large tent among other Elders and Veterans from different communities. Wrinkles hung gently over his face, creating a soft appearance, his hair was as white as snow and neatly combed to the side. He leaned on his walking stick and gazed at the group of dancers with kind, intelligent eyes, like a grandfather watching his grandchildren. The Aboriginal teen moved her head to gaze at her friends and she noticed her mom and dad were now with them. They gave her proud, encouraging smiles and she gave back a nervous grin.

"Alright, we shall now begin Fancy Dancers. Good luck and dance your heart out!" said the MC

Almost immediately the singers began to pound on the drum.

**BANG BANG! BANG BANG! BANG BANG! BANG BANG!**

In an instant, Santana's nervousness was gone and she focussed on the rhythm of the drum. She gripped the corners of her shawl, spread her arms out like wings and began to dance daintily on her toes. She hopped from one foot to the other, cross crossing her legs and kicking out while spinning and swaying her body and arms from side to side, as if she were a butterfly. Santana felt her chest pound with the drum as she danced clockwise around the circle, pigtails bouncing against her chest and back.

**BANG! BANG! BANG! Boomboom, boomboom, boomboom...**

Santana spun around on the balls of her feet, her beautiful shawl spreading out with her movements, tassels flapping in the breeze like tall wheat in a vast field. She danced on the ground as if it was made of delicate glass. She did not feel any fatigue or the scorching heat, her arms never went below her shoulders and time seemed to move forward with supernatural speed. Not even the other dancers distracted her as she continued her fast, two–step rhythm. The wailing song from the singers and the constant beat of the drum filled her ears and gave her new strength to continue her strong beat. Santana spun around once, twice, three times, four times, the world becoming a blur, and came to an exact stop with the drum.

The crowd erupted with clapping a cheering. Santana gasped for breath and sweated heavily, feeling very dense and tired, now that she had come back to reality.

"Excellent dancing girls, the butterflies would be proud of you!" said the M.C.

Much to her surprise, she won second place and was given a prize of forty dollars. But the best prize of all came from the praise her friends and family gave her.

"That was so awesome!"

"You looked amazing!"

"I never knew you could dance so fast!"

The fancy dancer's cheeks grew redder with modesty, "Awe, thanks guys. It wasn't so bad after all."

"I told you it wasn't," said Lindsay.

"Let's get something to drink and get out of this heat," said Zack.

Everyone agreed and after Santana gave her shawl and headband to her mother, she and the rest of the group travelled to the Concession tent, Collin's bells jingling as they walked. Each of them bought water bottles, fresh from the cooler and they all drank gratefully.

"Better?" asked Lindsay.

"Oh yeah," sighed Santana as she pressed the cold bottle to her hot cheeks and neck.

Lindsay smiled and looked beyond her friend for a moment.

"Oh hey Alison, hey Martin."

Alison was dressed in her Woman's Traditional array. Her buckskin dress with open sleeves was a vibrant forest green and heavy with beads. The shoulders of her dress was covered with a bright yellow background of glass beads, with patterns of green leaves and navy eyes. Long fringes of green satin trailed along the edge of her sleeves, almost touching the ground and swaying with her movements. On the sky blue shawl she held over her left arm was a large, embroidered grey eye. In her right hand, Alison held a large fan made of hawk feathers. Around her waist, a leather concho belt, with a pouch of tobacco and a hilt with a small dagger held snugly against her hip. Her black hair was plaited into a single braid that ran down her back and finished with a small barrette. An eagle feather was held by a barrette at the back of her head and clipped to her hair on the left side of her head was another barrette that bore three, tiny spruce grouse feathers and elk fur. Around her neck was a choker made of elk teeth and long, brown beads. Laying elegantly over her chest was a breastplate made of elk bones and clear glass beads, that travelled down to her ankles. Leggings covered with fir green and sun yellow beads hugged to her shins and moccasins completely covered with bright blue beads protected her feet; on the top of each foot in grey beads was a single eye. Martin wore his Hoop Dancer regalia. He had on a long sleeved, black shirt with different bright green, blue, yellow and white stripes of cloth sewn from his shoulders down to his arms to make a point. A black kilt with a diamond made of the same coloured stipes displayed brightly on the front and back and holding it in place was a a bright orange, white and red belt. White and lime green tassels of yarn lined the bottom edge of his kilt. Martin's feet were sweating profusely in his brown moccasins and the fur leggings he wore only made them feel hotter. The little boy adjusted his white, black, red and yellow hoops on his shoulder and tugged at the beaded choker around his neck, looking very uncomfortable.

"You two look hot," said Santana.

"Yes we are. I'm getting him and dad water before the next performance."

"Mind if I take some snap shots of you and Martin dancing?"

"Not at all, go right ahead. We'll be under the large tent, if you want to meet us later."

The four friends left Alison and Marten and headed to a large, red canopy that had been set up at the north end of the Pow Wow. Lindsay saw Nicki and Garret sitting on a park bench in the shelter. All four of them squished onto the bench.

"Hot enough everyone?"

He got groans for answers.

"Did you guys see Martin?" asked Garret, looking like he wanted to move.

"He's probably at the Concession Tent, yah might catch him."

She had barely finished her sentence when the ten year old took off. Zack look at his empty bottle.

"I think the short one had the idea. I'm gonna get more water."

"Me too," said Collin as he got up, "you guys want anything?"

The three politely declined and were soon left alone.

"Great performance out there Santana, I got it all on tape," the showed her the small, digital video camera, "don't worry, I have permission to film."

"Is it for, you–know–who?"

Nicki nodded, "Yeah, he enjoys watching the dances. But I know he would rather see them himself."

"How's he been doin'?"

"He's been doing a lot better," answered Lindsay.

"Much better," agreed Nicki.

"Well that's good, I've heard he's been quite depressed lately."

"Not as much as before. He's been getting out a lot, exercising and climbing. This is perfect weather for him."

"I'll never figure out how he can be so comfortable in such heat," said Lindsay, tugging at the collar of her tank top.

Santana changed the subject, "When is your uncle taking him on that hunting trip?"

Nicki shrugged, "In about a week or so, he's really looking forward to it."

"Do you still think it's a good idea from him to leave home?"

For a moment, Nicki and Lindsay didn't answer.

"I don't think any of us like the idea of him being away from home. But we can't keep him there for the rest of his life, we don't have the right to and he'll just go crazy," said Nicki.

"But what if someone sees him, like other hunters or campers?"

"Uncle Danny wouldn't let that happen," reassured Lindsay, "he knows a lot of remote places up north and where the hunters will be. After all, Uncle Danny gives your dad the best trapping spots."

"I guess, but it doesn't make me worry less."

"It worries us too Santana," said Nicki, "But we have been preparing for this trip for a long time and there's really nothing more we can do."

Santana nodded and the conversation ended when Garret, Zack and Collin came back with Martin and Allison.

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'_What is going on? What was that pounding noise? It sounds like...drumming. There must be a gathering of oomans somewhere, but what were they doing?_' The Hunter carefully bounded to another tree, timing it with the breeze. He needed to be very careful with the skinny pine trees, one miss calculation and he could end up breaking the tree in half, giving away his cover and possibly injuring himself.

Most Yautja wouldn't have even bothered to go to the northern territories to hunt oomans. The trees provided terrible cover, the weather was cold and dry, and very little prey lived in such areas. But the Hunter disagreed, this was the perfect place to hunt. He knew some of the oomans were hunters themselves and very skilled ones. The concept of the hunters becoming the hunted gave him the most thrill and thus the northern forests were his favourite grounds.

The Hunter realised the drumming was getting louder and he could also hear high pitched wailing. Was there a gathering for the dead? Oomans always cried for their dead, but he never knew why they would do such an appalling act. Crying for a lost one dishonoured the soul greatly and brought forth evil spirits; but the wailing was somehow different. The sounds seemed deliberate and it followed the beat of the drums. Curiosity got the better of the Hunter and he moved from limb to limb until he came onto the great field. No, it was definitely not a funeral. Some kind of celebration maybe?

The oomans were standing in a circle and wearing elaborate clothing that did not appear to be the normal wear in such heat. It looked very similar to the Celebration of Paya, when he use to attend it, but there was something very different about this celebration. When the Hunter zoomed in towards the centre of the circle, he saw the difference. Their sucklings were dancing! The oomans allowed their pups to dance? Yautja sucklings were forbidden to dance at public celebrations, only those who had been trained for several years were allowed to dance and no performer was younger than a Young Blood. The Hunter shook his head at the strange oomans and he thought it best to move to new hunting grounds. He decided to head farther north, where the ooman hunters would be starting their season. The Hunter bounded silently through the trees with the wind and soon disappeared.

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It was very hard for Martin to ignore the intense heat and but he kept going in spite of it. The dance was being cut short, as there were five year old dancers in the group and they would not be able to last much longer. Hoop Dancing was basically a story of the stages of life told by the dancer as he or she created many different forms with hoops. A dancer can hold over thirty hoops at one time. Hoop Dancing did not have a category in the Pow Wow, it was more or less a show of skill, endurance and flexibility. Recently, Twin Lake School had offered lessons in Hoop Dancing and now Martin and the other students were showing off what they had learned. The ten year old made sure he stayed in time with the beat of the drums, threading his legs through three hoops and grabbing one in each hand. He spun around on one foot, pulling the three hoops higher on his legs, at the same leaning the hoops in his hand against his shoulders. He stopped to show off his display, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Then with one fluent motion, he lowered the two upper rings to his side, brought both feet inside the centre hoop, pulled it up his body and ducked his head through until it rested against his back, allowing his arms to weave through the hoops on his arms. He now looked like a giant eagle and he swayed and flapped his wings while he spun around several times on his right foot. From the edge of the circle, Alison watched with proudness at her son's accomplishment, while the gang smiled with enjoyment. A hot gust blew through the field, causing Santana to wrinkle her nose.

"Do you smell something?"

Lindsay snapped a picture of Martin, "What was that?"

"I said, do you smell something?"

Lindsay took a whiff, "No, why?"

"I dunno, I smelled something funny."

"That skunk is probably making his way here."

"No, it's nothing like a skunk."

"I'm sure it's nothing."

Santana shrugged and continued to watch the dancing children. Lindsay snapped another picture and looked towards the direction of the house. She couldn't help wondering what Morgan was doing right now.

A sour note rang through the air and Morgan cringed. He looked at his left hand and thought his talons were a bit long. He put his guitar down and walked from the living room to the bathroom. He pulled out a drawer, took a thick, black nailfile and began to scrap down his talons. Morgan sighed as he worked, feeling slightly bored. Everyone was at the Pow Wow, his dad was flying some campers to the north and his mom was brushing Daisy outside. Because the dog always slept outside, even during the harshest winters, she had a very thick coat and often didn't shed enough off when the summer came. One of the ways to keep her cool in such hot weather was to brush away excess fur. Morgan glanced outside and suddenly felt the urge to swim. His favourite spot was a small beach located at the other end of the forest and even though the beach was part of one of the main lakes, no one ventured into that area because it was private property. Morgan blew the dust from his talons and went into his room to change into his swimsuit. After slipping over a thin, yellow t–shirt and grabbing a towel, he bounded down the stairs and went to the back door. He saw his mother brushing Daisy's rump and each stroke caused clumps of fur to build up on her shirt and arms. The alien stuck his head out the door.

"I'm going swimming mom, I'll be back in a bit."

Annie wiped moisture from her brow and the dog gave a soft growl.

"Alright Morgan, be careful."

"I will."

The large male headed for the front door, slipped on his large sandals and stepped outside, sighing gratefully at the wonderful hot day. His sensitive ears picked up the chanting and drumming from the park. Morgan dearly wished he could see the Pow Wow for himself. He would have been willing to sneak into town just to get a glimpse of the event, but because it was performed in such an open space and in broad daylight, he didn't dare risk it. Morgan fluffed his long, loose hair and turned to walk down the main path that lead all the way to the beach. As he walked, the drums and songs became softer and were soon replaced by the sounds of nature.

Annie pulled off a large clump of matted hair from her brush and placed it in a plastic bag. She knew as soon as she finished, the dog will jump into her paddling pool then roll in the dirt; as if telling Annie that being clean and cool was a wasted effort. Maybe Morgan should have taken Daisy with him, she loved to swim and wet sand groomed her coat very nicely. But then on the walk back, everything from burs to dirt would be stuck in her fur. Better the dog gets dirty in the yard, rather than the bush. Annie smiled pleasantly as she thought more about her adopted son. It seemed like it was not that long ago she was cradling his tiny form in her arms. Morgan had been a challenge to take care off.

The days after he had been found, he had barely stopped crying. Being separated from his true mother and subjected to new surroundings was hard on the baby alien. Caring for baby Morgan put a lot of stress on the family and Annie, who was pregnant with Lindsay at the time, suffered the most of it. Interestingly enough Morgan would only stop crying when he was given a bath. Annie had figured maybe his species preferred a warm, moist climate, so a humidifier was placed in the baby's room and it was always kept at incubator temperature. The most frightening time for Annie was when Morgan refused to eat. For a couple of months, bottle feeding had satisfied the infant but one day he suddenly rejected the bottle. Annie and Jack had tried many different formulas, some of them recommended by Dr. Grayeyes, to see if a change in taste or mixture would please him, but nothing worked and Morgan grew weaker with each passing day. Like determined parents, they refused to give up on their adopted son and the young mother made one last attempt; she breast fed Morgan and it worked like a charm. Although it had been a constant struggle for Annie to produce milk while providing proper nutrition for herself and Lindsay during the last month of her pregnancy, the adopted alien soon grew stronger and gained more weight. By the time Lindsay was born, Morgan had already begun to adapted to his new home, his crying had lessened and both the humidifier and warmer temperature was no longer needed.

Annie pulled more black and white fur from the wiry brush, before going back to work on Daisy's belly.

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A loud splash radiated through the quiet woods, causing ducks and water animals to cry out and take cover. Morgan swam like a frog under the cool water of the small bay, hovering over green–brown weeds that swung with his movements. He felt his lungs begin to burn and he kicked to the surface, taking in a deep breathe of the warm, dry air. He tread water for a moment before laying on his back to gaze at the sky, watching large, downy white clouds float over him. Water blocked his ears and the world of sound became oblivious, but the sweet smell of water lilies and wet vegetation filled his nose. He spread his arms and legs gently through the clear, silky fluid, feeling totally free from the grip of gravity for what seemed like a long time. Thoughts of the hunting trip filled his mind. For the past month Morgan had been practising his aim by shooting at a bright orange target with the .22 rifle and the 410 shotgun in the forest. Just recently, Uncle Danny had watched his nephew proudly when he bullseyed the target five times in a row from twenty metres away. Morgan was almost tempted to shoot a passing spruce grouse that had stupidly wondered near the firing area, but his uncle had stopped him. "_There's plenty of game where we're going,_" he had said, "_don't wanna ruin the experience._" Even though Morgan had a pretty good shot with the rifle, he didn't like the gun. It didn't feel right in his hands and it seemed like it took away something. Excitement, or the challenge maybe?

Morgan let himself sink and he swam back to the white, sandy beach, drying himself off with the towel and letting the sun warm his bare upper body. He found himself looking at the bend in the lake; around that bend was the burial place of his biological mother. The alien seemed to ponder for a moment before slunging the towel over his shoulder and slipping his sandals over his sand covered feet. He then turned to the trees and trekked to the grave sight. After carefully sliding down a needle covered hill, he found himself staring at a thick slab of shale under a great elm tree, with giant branches filled with bright, green leaves that stretched out to the water, creating a natural canopy. Water grass grew around the edge of the moist earth and waved back and forth with the gentle lapping of the water. The black stone faced the dark lake, becoming warm in the sun's rays. His parents had put the stone there in memory for the lost soul who had brought him to his new family. Morgan sat down on the bare ground and crossed his legs.

He had heard the tale of his mother many times; the space ship crashing into the half frozen lake, the moment when she handed him over to his new mother and the decision to put her in the water, where she could never be found. Her body had long since decayed, but the spaceship was still down there, somewhere. This part of the lake had a very muddy bottom and anything heavy sunk through it like quick sand. Maybe there were other bodies in there or maybe his mother was the only one on the ship. Morgan never knew and neither did his parents. The alien never felt sadness for his mother's passing, why mourn someone he never knew? But he longed to know what his mother was like. His parents always described her in great detail—the shape of her face, what she was wearing, how tall she was, the colouring of her skin and eyes. It sounded like she was a very strong, beautiful female. But he didn't think he resembled her, maybe he looked more like his father. Maybe his father was still out there, or maybe he was down in the sunken ship—perhaps his family was out there too. A family with grandparents, brothers and sisters, uncles, aunts and cousins; who had no knowledge of a member living on earth. If they had known, would they have rescued him long ago? And if they didn't know, will he always remain here?

Morgan shook his head, trying to rid him of the flooding questions, it was getting harder to keep them locked away. How long can he keep them from continually consuming his mind? Again, he shook his head. '_Stop worrying so much_,' he told himself, '_you came here to relax, not fall victim to confusion_.' Morgan took a glance at the leaves above him and suddenly smiled. He slowly layed back on the dirt floor, using his towel to prop his head. This was one of the reasons why summer was his favourite season. The warm air, the sweet and spicy smells of the green woods and the gentle noises of nature never failed to sooth his distresses. He wondered what he would do without the wild. The alien kept his gaze and watched the elm leaves flicker in the light breeze, causing thin streams of sunlight to dance across his face and along the ground. Morgan closed his eyes and shifted comfortably on his back. It didn't take long for the rustling wind in the trees to sing him to sleep, where he dreamed of tall, shadowy objects, with waving hair.

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The Hunter made an abrupt stop and sniffed the air. He had caught the most strange odour while he was running along the forest ground. At first, he thought it was an animal, but it was much too heavy for an earth creature and now he couldn't find it. He sensed the breeze change direction on the bare parts of his skin and he quickly, but carefully climbed a thin birch tree. He breathed in the air around him, enhancing the scent in his mask. Nothing, it was as if the smell never existed. The Hunter growled, the odour was very unnerving. What creature in this area had a heavy smell? He didn't know all the animals that lived in the northern forests of the planet, but who was to say that was an earth creature? The Predator noted the scent and the location for the moment, now was not the time to be vexed, he had to keep focussed on his goal. Maybe after his hunt he would find out where that odour came from. Without a second thought, the Hunter bounded to another tree and continued to where his ship was hidden.

_Now that the Hunter is finally on Earth, the real excitement can begin! The next chapter is the one I have been longing to write for a long time and you can be sure all my efforts will be put into it. For those who have stayed with me for this long, I thank you so much for your patience! Hopefully there won't be such a long a wait, now that I'm on summer holidays. Take care!_


	9. When the Hunter Becomes the Hunted

_I know, I'm a horrible person for not updating in a year and not keeping to my promise of a shorter update gap. This chapter is basically setting up what is to come in the hopefully nearer future. I could rant on with excuses of university and work taking up most of my time, but I won't bore you all with that. Thanks for reading!_

The sun had barely peaked from the spindly pine trees as the trapper made his way through the lake. His motor boat sputtered and puffed, breaking the silent early morning. A warm breeze from the west carried the sharp scent of pine to his nose and ruffled through his scraggly, black hair. It was going to be another hot day, much hotter than it normally was in the summer. The trapper remembered when it was this hot in the far north, almost thirty–five years ago. _Ah, those were the good ol' days,_ he would think to himself. When the fishing so good, you could hold a fish hook over a boat and a ten pound jack fish would leap out of the water to catch it; when the elk and dear wandered through the forests in large herds, when the game was so plentiful, it only took half a day for a rabbit, minx or fox to be caught in a trap. But those days were long gone, thanks to commercial fishing, hunting, tourism, mining and logging. Being a trapper was not an easy life, it took days, even weeks to trap a single animal, and it often forced him to search for other areas several kilometres away from the usual sites. Today, the trapper hoped he would be lucky.

"Turn left here Bernard, we're nearly there."

The eighteen year old Dene driver steered the metal boat around the bend, feeling it jump and bounce on the gentle waves of the lake.

"How many traps are there, Laurence?" he asked.

"I only have one here, but I'd like to visit six today."

Laurence was helping him trap animals since his father, a fellow trapper and friend, had been very sick. Because he was ill for so long, he had to be flown to the hospital in Twin Lake and has been there for the last two weeks. Until his father became well, Bernard was to take on the business to support his family. The large man tugged at the collar of his red plaid shirt and wiped his hands on his work pants, scanning the shore ahead.

"Cut the motor Bernie, we'll let the current push us to shore."

The teen shut the motor off and dug out the rope from beneath his feet. Laurence carefully leaned out and snatched a handful of branches to pull the side of the boat against the rocky coast. Bernard leapt from the boat and landed with perfect balance, rope in hand. Bushes tugged at his brown pants and yanked at the laces of his boots as he wound the rope on a tree, securing it tightly. He turned to see come towards him, handing him a pack of trapping gear and a cooler full of ice. The large man reached back into the boat and slung a hunting rifle onto his shoulder. Although he rarely used it, he brought the gun along just in case.

"Hope you're in good shape, 'cause the walk is mostly uphill. Just follow the red markers and we'll be there in fifteen minutes."

Bernard grunted as he swung the pack over his shoulders and picked up the cooler. Laurence chuckled as he hobbled along.

"Believe it or not Bernie, this is the easy trail. My other traps are usually a forty minute hike."

The teen made a slight scowl but did not say a word. It was not the first time he had travelled in rough terrain, but the hot weather made it less tolerable. Rocks slippery with moss jutted out like mouldy teeth from the trail, bush and tree branches tugged at his pants and slapped against his sweaty face as he walked up the hill, but he did not complain. Finally the two trappers passed the last marker and there stood a small cage along an animal trail in the midst of the shrubbery and trees. Inside the cage was a good size rabbit, its brown coat looking very well groomed and healthy. The little creature's nose twitched as he watched with big, fearful eyes at the humans. Bernard put down his gear with a sigh and Laurence gave a nod of approval.

"Yup, that's a goon 'un, lots 'o meat on 'im and beautiful fur," he turned to his companion, "okay Bernie, show me what yah got."

The Dene grinned and pulled out a freshly sharpened hunting knife. He went to the cage and stood in front of it to make the animal did not leap out. The rabbit did the opposite, it slinked to the back of the cage to try and avoid the large hand that reached inside. Bernard grabbed at the creature's hind legs, holding fast as it began to struggle. He pulled it out just enough so he could grab its long ears. The rabbit made a high pitched squeal as Bernard pressed the knife against the furry throat and gave a sharp jerk. The rabbit stopped moving and this throat bled openly on the ground. Laurence smiled.

"Very good, that was quick and painless. You remember how to skin it?"

"Yeah, but I can't do it like my dad. He can skin rabbits better than me."

"It takes a lot of practise. Go on, I'll coach yah."

Under careful direction, Bernard carefully took the skin off the rabbit without damaging the fur or meat. Laurence went to set the trap again when he suddenly heard a strange noise. He looked around, wondering if a bobcat was nearby. When he heard nothing he shrugged it off and reset the trap. He went back to view the young boy's work and was about to speak when he heard the strange noise again. This time he picked up what sounded like a very low, guttural growl. It was definitely not the sound of a bobcat and Laurence ruled out the possibility of a bear. He had sometimes seen bears try to get at the bait inside the traps, but they made huffing and grunting noises, not growls.

"Hey Bernie, did you hear somethin'?"

"Hear what?" the young man did not look up from his work.

"I thought I heard something growl."

Bernard shot his head up, "What?"

Laurence shook his head, "Nevermind, must be these old trees. Keep goin', you're doin' great."

The young Dene appeared worried, but went back to skinning the rest of the rabbit. Laurence folded his arms and continued to listen a little longer, holding his gun closer to him. After a while he should his head and sat down on a nearby rock and reached into the pack to pull out a bottle of water. He took several gulps when his ears picked up the mysterious growl, this time it was much louder. Bernie jumped and nearly cut himself with the skinning knife.

"What was that?"

Laurence tried to think of something to calm the situation, but his mind drew a blank. Whatever growled, it was something he had never encountered before. Laurence took the hunting rifle from his shoulder and flicked the safety off.

"Wait 'ere Bernie, and don't make a sound," he said quietly as he pushed through the underbrush.

The young man did not know what to do, he felt he should help his friend, but obediently he stayed where he was. The experienced trapper stared at the bush like a hawk searching a mouse, his ears perked to the slightest abnormal noise. He carefully picked himself over the rocky terrain, gun cocked and ready. Laurence stepped over a boulder, silently pushing willow branches away from his view. His heart pounded in his chest as he turned in a slow circle, listening. Forgetting the rabbit, Bernard watched anxiously at his companion and also peered into the trees, trying to pin point where the growl came from. Laurence suddenly pulled the trigger and a loud bang erupted through the forest. Bernard's hands flew to his ears, feeling them ring painfully. The Dene's heart began to race as Laurence listened again, hoping that the gun shot scared away whatever was stalking them. But there was nothing, there was hardly any movement at all.

After several long minutes Laurence relaxed and appeared satisfied. "_I must be gettin' _old," he thought. He turned to give Bernard the okay, when the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly rose. Forty years of trapping in the wild told him they were being watched. He tensed his hands over his weapon, darting his eyes from one bush to another, trying to locate the danger. The trapper was abruptly stopped by a sudden flicker in the brush. A ball of fear grew in his as he stared at it. The more he did, the more it began to take the shape of a body and head. Laurence felt fear crawl up his back and he nearly screamed when he saw two, yellow glowing eyes. He raised his rifle and aimed, shooting off another round. Bernard leapt to his feet when he saw the gun flare.

"Laurence!"

"Run Bernie, run!" The large man shouted back as he fired again. The wavy form dodged from his shot and the man turned to run.

"Run boy—"

He didn't finish when Bernard say a spray of red explode from the man's neck and he gurgled as he fell. Something round and silver flew through the air before disappearing. The teen gasped in complete shock, unsure of what to do. Laurence looked up desperately, chocking on blood that was gushing from his neck.

"I…..said….run….." Laurence gargled.

Bernard felt sick to his stomach, his mind screamed to run, but his legs would not move. A shake in the bushes caused him to look away from his wounded companion. He could not see anything, until his sharp eyes caught a momentary glimpse of a large body materialising out of nowhere. Huge, sharp blades sprung out from the form's arm and plunged in to Laurence's back. He cried out in anguish before collapsing to the ground. The teen shrieked and slowly began to back away trembling, refusing to believe what he had seen.

"Windigo…" he gasped through rapid breaths.

The invisible creature gave a final twist and yanked the blood covered blades from his dead victim. The boy saw the creature raise his head at him and Bernard's legs suddenly worked. He ran full speed to the boat, stumbling over rocks and moss, branches whipping at his face and clothes.

"Windigo…Windigo!" he kept crying through whimpered gasps.

He finally came to the end of the trail and collapsed into the boat. He cut the line and pushed off the shore, fumbling to try and start the motor with his blood soaked hands. He frantically checked the forest to see if the creature was following him until the motor suddenly came to life. Bernard turned on the throttle and sped away from the island as quickly as he could, not even paying attention to where he was going as tears of fear and sadness rolled down his cheeks.

From the shore, the cloaked Hunter watched the small ooman leave. He was grinning behind his mask, "_perfect,_" he thought, "_now the real challenge begins_." He went back to his fresh kill and proceeded to make it his trophy.

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Morgan strummed the strings of his guitar and picked a few chords as he relaxed on the couch. "_Five days,_" he thought happily, "_five days until the hunting trip._" The excitement grew warmly in the pit of his stomach. He had been busily planning his packing list: clothing, camping gear, footwear. Some of it was already set aside in his room, his hunting knife, compass, a survival guide, a whistle, his headlamp, cotton socks, nylon pants and old t–shirts. Uncle Danny had been making frequent visits to help his nephew form a food plan, show him maps of lakes and trails they would be visiting and teaching how to use the GPS. Following the maps and the GPS was not hard, but forming a departure plan was. So far they had planned to leave before the break of dawn to avoid heavy traffic and when day finally broke, Morgan would have to lay on the cramped backseat, with a blanket over him. It wasn't going to be the most comfortable ride, but to get outside and go hunting was worth the effort.

Morgan's tune became more upbeat as he continued to play. Him and his uncle would be gone for a week and although he was a little unsure of staying away from his piano and guitar that long. He stopped playing for a moment and looked at the head of his guitar, feeling the strings with his calloused fingers. Uncle Danny had told him he would be too excited to even think about his music. The front door opened and Morgan looked up to see Lindsay and Nicki come in with bags of groceries.

"Woah man, it's boiling outside," Lindsay said as she passed, "we live in the north for God's sake! How can it be this hot and dry for so long?"

"Hot and dry? I haven't noticed," said Morgan with a grin.

Lindsay ignored him as she and Nicki unloaded the groceries in the kitchen. The red head opened the fridge door to put the milk away and left it open a while longer, letting out a sigh as the cool air kissed her hot skin. The phone rang and Nicki went to pick it up.

"Hello? Hi, Uncle Danny, how goes?"

Lindsay closed the fridge and put the cereal away.

"What? What happened?"

The seventeen year old stopped what she was doing and glanced at her brother, who appeared very shocked and confused.

"It happened when—" he paused, "what channel?"

Lindsay looked at her older brother questioningly. He covered the receiver with his hand.

"Turn the TV to channel nine. A trapper from Hague has been murdered."

The teens eyes widened as she dashed into the living room and grabbed the remote to turn on the TV. Morgan strummed a sour note from the interruption.

"Hey, what gives?"

"Uncle Danny says someone was murdered up in the north."

Morgan was confused, but worried none the less. Events such as this rarely occurred and it was a huge deal when they did. The screen come on and Lindsay surfed the channels until she found number nine to a news report.

"—twelve kilometres west of Hague a man by the name of Laurence Timbolt, an experienced northern trapper was found dead yesterday morning. According to his companion, whose name has not been released, they were attacked by a large human–like creature, claiming to be the creature Windigo—"

The three family members listened with great intent. They had heard about the Windigo many times from campfire stories and school lessons. Windigo was a mythical creature in Assiniboine culture who lived in the forests and fed upon people who became lost. But no matter how much the Windigo ate, his cravings were never satisfied.

"—the eyewitness got away from the attacker by jumping into the boat he and Laurence used to get to the island. Three passing fisherman saw him handling the boat in an unsafe manner and thinking he was in trouble, intercepted the eyewitness. The fisherman found him crying uncontrollably and his hands covered in blood. Rescuers were able to return to the scene of the attack and found the skinned body of Timbolt, hung upside down but his ankles with rope. Police have the eyewitness in custody and are questioning him of his story. Until the blood on his hands has been analysed, no further details or other suspects have been released."

Lindsay hand her hand over her mouth, "My God, what kind of a maniac skins a body?"

Morgan shook his head with disgust, "I don't know, he must've been on something. Did Uncle Danny know the guy?"

"He might 'ave," Lindsay was trying to listen to the rest of the report.

"Yeah we watched it," said Nicki, "sure he's here."

Morgan felt a tap on his shoulder and looked to see his brother hand him the phone.

"Uncle Danny wants to talk to you."

The alien put the phone to his ear.

"Hey, Uncle Danny."

"Hi Morgan, you saw the news?"

"Uh huh. I can't believe this guy skinned a trapper."

"I don't think he did Morgan. I knew that trapper and I was told recently that the son of a well respected Dene trapper accompanied him. I've gone on a few trips with him and his father. They are good people, that boy is not responsible for the murder."

Morgan was speechless, "Then, why would someone kill and skin a trapper out in the middle of nowhere?"

"I don't know. Listen Morgan, I think we may have to put off the hunting trip. Once the witness is cleared the whole north will be swarming with RCMP. I don't want to risk you being seen if we go out there."

Morgan tried hard not to growl in disappointment.

"Situations might become different if they catch the guy. You understand Morgan?"

The alien nearly hissed, "Yeah, I understand."

"Good. I think the boy's father is currently at the hospital. I'll go there first to see how he's doin', then I'll be comin' over later."

"Bye, Uncle Danny."

Morgan hung up the phone and leaned back against the couch. Of all the times for a tragedy, it had to be now! He dearly prayed someone would find the murderer, otherwise he could very well go insane as well.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Hunter sat in a thick birch tree, letting the hot sun warm his skin as he held the freshly polished skull in his hand. He tenderly trailed a claw over the brow, around the eye socket and down the point bridge of the nose. The Hunter tilted his head to one side, he wondered why such commendable prey had very small brains. Not that it surprised him, these beings were so very primitive.

He heard a shout and looked down to the ooman males who were trying to get his kill down from the tree, ten metres away. Only two of them could handle the coppery stench of blood, while the four others would not come near. The Hunter saw one of them regurgitate behind a tree. "_Pathetic_," he thought. This ooman he held did not become squeamish at the sight of blood while he was watching an animal being skinned. What difference did animals and oomans make? They both bled.

There was a roar above the Hunter and he looked up to see a tiny ooman aircraft approach. He thought it best to leave and put his skull away in a leather bag strapped to his belt. Though the oomans were primitive, he did not underestimate their technology. They too could track prey with the use of heat and radar and would most likely use them if they wanted to find the one responsible for the kill. The Hunter activated his cloaking device and took off through the trees towards his awaiting shuttle. Tomorrow was a new day, with new prey to hunt.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The murders went on for another five days. Four more bodies were found strung up and skinned in the northern forests. Towns became panicked as they wondered who would be next to be killed by the Windigo. Morgan became more upset with each passing day, not only was he worried about the murderer, he was still distressed about the cancelled hunting trip. While he did not believe a mythical creature was causing the killings, he believed this person was very smart. All the murders were focussed towards trappers and hunters, no tracks, bullets or any evidence of a struggle were found and the bodies would be skinned with precision and ease. It seemed this serial killer was a hunter himself.

"Hey Morgan, come look quick!" shouted Lindsay.

Morgan dashed out of the music room and headed to where his sister was sitting in front of the TV.

"They're showing what this Windigo looks like."

The screen displayed two pictures, one of the Native American Windigo and the other one described by the only eyewitness. Although there were many different stories about the Windigo, his description was still the same. A taller than average, two legged being, with large eyes, a malformed body and large teeth inside a twisted mouth. It is said, that the Windo's hunger is so intense, he ate his own lips off. The creature was more or less like a zombie and represented greed and selfishness—not cannibalism as some people thought. It was sometimes said, that those who became selfish, turned into a Windigo.

Next to the mythical creature was the eyewitness drawing: a very tall humanoid with glowing eyes, long hair and shadowed face. Very similar in appearance to the Windigo, but obviously one that did not follow the behaviour as told by Assiniboine legend. Lindsay shook her head and looked back at Morgan. She was about to say something, but suddenly frowned. She glanced back at the TV, then to Morgan.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing, It's nothing."

Morgan looked confused, but when he heard the sound of the quad he headed for the door.

"Dad and Nicki are back with the wood for the veranda. I'll be back."

Lindsay watched her brother leave and turned off the TV. She did not want to tell Morgan, but he looked almost exactly like eyewitness drawing of Windigo.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Hunter strapped himself to his seat of his shuttle and activated the controls. It had been a good hunting trip, four ooman skulls in total. One he was particularly proud of, for the ooman hunter had put up a fight before he died. I was not because of the way he defended himself, but how well he did. He actually took a swing at him! The punch caught him square under the chin and it had sent quite the painful jar through his mandibles. Many years had passed since he had been hit by an inferior creature and although furious, he was thrilled! The Hunter chuckled in his throat at the memory, one does not get prey like that on every hunt, but now it was time to leave. Four skulls in five days were more than enough to boost his status and with his influence on the oomans it was not safe to stay; but something tugged at the back of his mind.

He recalled the shadowy visions from Paya. Nothing miraculous or life changing happened on the hunt, yet he could not figure out why he felt the need to stay longer. The Hunter peered out into the dark forest in front of him, thinking maybe his visions were referring to another, future hunt. The Hunter shrugged and keyed in the last sequence in the controls. In four weeks, all the lone hunters would return from their trips and then they would return to the Homeworld. The Hunter felt the shuttle hover for a moment, then silently take off in a wave of blurred heat. The only witness to the take off was a moose, lazily grazing the grass near the landing area.

_I thank all those who have stuck with this story. I understand how much you want to know more about what happens and it thrills me to see how much you all enjoy it. It's comments like those that keep me going! Again, thanks for your patience and I hope to update more quickly in the near future._


	10. Frustration and Visions

_Boy, do I feel bad putting this story off for so long. I thank those of you who have stuck around for this long. I finally got rid of my writers block and with one year left of school I've found a little more free time. Anyway, hope you enjoy!_

A week went by, then two, and then a total of eighteen days passed since the last murder in the north. As fast as the "Killer Windigo" appeared, he vanished off the face of the earth. Many authorities and volunteers had continued to search the woods for the murderer, but over time the search parties grew smaller and smaller. The residences of the north became more tense and anxious from the lack of answers. Family members of the victims wanted someone to pay for the crimes, but there were no other suspects or any leads. The only one to see and live the Windigo's first attack was poor Bernard Mackenzie. Rumour had it that he was charged for the first murder and had been placed in the town jail house until he was transferred to a maximum security prison. Others said he had locked himself up in his room and was slowly losing his mind from the traumatic experience. Another rumour circulated that some government officials picked him up and took him to be questioned at a secret location in the Arctic Circle.

No one really knew the truth anymore, only fear and panic. The town's people of Twin Lake were still feeling the stress, especially the children. They were too afraid to go outside, much less leave their homes to go to school and even when they got there it was just as hard for them to leave. A week ago the town had done well to carry on their everyday lives until a report came about a distinct pattern emerging from the killer's movements. Each kill appeared to move south from where the first victim was found, they would occur on or near hunting grounds and each victim was a resident from the town closest to the crime scene. Four other towns appeared to be the next possible targets on the murderer's spree and Twin Lake was one of them. Unless the "Killer Windigo" was finally caught, it would take a long time for the town to feel they were safe again.

Morgan slammed on the piano keys, venting out his frustration as he played the loud, dark tones from _The Ballad of Sweeny Todd_. The piano seemed to be the only thing that briefly calmed him. It was not just about the cancellation of the hunting trip, it had to do with the whole season. He knew the north had short summers and the hot weather would not last much longer. Morgan felt like a caged animal, he wanted to get out; he wanted to roam free in the heat and the sun without having to worry about being seen. The instinct he had tried to control for such a long time was now almost becoming almost too much to bare. Harsh chords rang out from the music room as the song continued, he hissed as his fingers began to throb but it only fuelled his aggravation.

"MORGAN!" shouted a voice.

The alien jumped and stopped his playing, startled and irritated from the interruption. He whirled around and clicked his tusks irritable as he saw Nicki standing at the door, giving him a stern look.

"Jeeze, Morgan, you play that any harder and your fingers will be too sore to hold Uncle Danny's gun."

Morgan frowned and slumped his shoulders, his older brother still talked like he would leave for the hunting trip at any day and he was getting fed up with it.

"We're going to get groceries for the barbeque. Do you need anything?"

Morgan scowled, "No I don't. Have fun on your adventure into town, don't mind me. I'll be here, alone, with my piano."

The alien turned away from his brother and grumbled even more. Nicki sighed.

"Red, I don't like it either but you have waited seventeen years to go on the trip, so what's a couple more weeks? I had to wait a month and a half until I could go. Remember the forest fires?"

Morgan groaned and nodded. Several years ago the north experienced a very dry summer and a large majority of the boreal forest was wracked with fires. Luckily the concentration of the fires was father west and only one northern town had to be temporarily evacuated. In fact, it was so dry that for the first time in forty years the whole province was not allowed to set off fireworks for national celebrations.

"We'll be back in an hour or so, call if you need anything," said Nicki as he turned and left.

While he felt bad about Morgan's depression, he too was beginning to lose patience with his behaviour. He had been trying to find ways to keep his younger brother active with the occasional rock climbing, fishing and canoe trip on the property. But he could see the longing in his brother's eyes, he wanted to go beyond the property and farther into the wilderness. As Nicki headed out the door he thought of something that might help and he told his family he would make a quick stop somewhere while they went shopping. The young man hoped his idea would work.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Hunter was restless in his sleep. The blanket that once covered his body was now twisted around his legs, his eyes rolled back into his twitching lids and his breathing intensified as the dream continued. Fuzzy shadows whipped by his body, like fingers grasping and waving in a crazed rage. Was he running? Was he chasing something…or was he the one being chased? Colours began to appear in the greyness – orange, red, yellow and white – it was very hot. A towering wall of fire began to form right in front of him. He tried to get away from the inferno, but his legs felt as heavy as lead and he could barely move. The Hunter began to see something burning in it. No, not something…someone! There was a definite figure in the fire, but a figure of what? It was as black as a shadow and a menacing growl seemed to come from it and echo all around the blaze. Suddenly the figure burst into a giant, black mass that consumed the fire and just as the Hunter felt it was about to engulf him, he woke with a startled bark. He blinked and rubbed his eyes as he regained his senses, swallowing dryly he untangled his legs from the blanket and sat up, panting. That was the fourth time he had that dream, each time the images became more detailed and the feelings of confusion and nervousness increased – something he had not felt in a long time. What did it all mean? Why was he suddenly having these nightmares? The Hunter grunted as he threw his legs over the side of his mattress and he ran a hand through his sweat covered locks. _No,_ he thought, _they are no longer dreams, they are visions._ He was sure of it, but what were they trying to tell him? Shadows, fire, a figure burning, growling – it sounded more like a sign from the Underworld than anything else. The Hunter ruffled his dread locks and gave a sigh, maybe another meditation session was needed to bring back the intense visions and hopefully find their meaning. The Hunter stood up and went to put on a fresh piece of clothing, passing by his three, freshly polished ooman skulls.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The barbeque was going quite well, considering the Cameron family had one every five years or so. Beef patties and moose steak were sizzling loudly on the grill and their new picnic table was set up nicely with plates, drinks, bowls of chips and platters of vegetables and fruit. A continuous breeze kept the mosquitoes away, but it did not stop the occasional wasp from dive-bombing the food, or the spruce beetles from lazily flying down from the trees. Jack closed the lid of the barbeque and looked over the backyard, taking a swig of his beer. The guest list was larger than usual; Allison, her husband and Martin were there. The couple watched Martin and Garret splash around in the large paddling pool with Daisy, keeping them cool in the hot afternoon. Santana was there as well, snacking on a plate of vegetables while talking with Lindsay. Daniel was inside with Annie, making his famous lemon wedge fries and barbeque sauce for the moose steaks. Lastly, the Elder of the town was attending. He sat comfortably on the back porch in the shade of the house while he listened to Morgan play another new song from his guitar. The Elder was a last minute invite, Nicki's idea.

Jack took another gulp of beer and checked the cooking meat. It always amazed him how well Morgan's secret had been kept, considering how many close calls they had, he wondered if it could be kept much longer. Like any father, he worried about his children's future, but none was more uncertain than Morgan's. What was he going to do when Morgan reached adulthood? What will his life be like? Eventually his brothers and sisters will move on to their own lives, but that was something Morgan could never do on Earth. This world was not ready to learn of alien existence and certainly will not be ready in Morgan's lifetime...however old his species lived. Problems with Morgan were only just beginning, first with the cancellation of the hunting trip, then what will happen next? Jack's thoughts were interrupted when he saw his brother come out with a cooking brush and a bowl of his thick sauce. He stepped aside to let his brother work magic on the steaks.

Morgan strummed out the last chord on his guitar and stopped, then shrugged.

"And that's all I have so far," he said.

The Elder smiled.

"Very well done _Tipiskâwatâhk_, I can't wait to hear the rest."

Elder Bill Gladue was the last of the people in town who knew about Morgan's existence. He and the Cormacs were long time friends and one they could depend on to keep Morgan a secret. Elder Gladue remembered the day he saw little Morgan, sleeping in his crib with a yellow and green fleece blanket wrapped snugly around him. From the moment he saw him, he knew there was something very special about him and agreed to support the family during the times when Morgan's identity became compromised. He gave the Cree name to Morgan on the day he met him which roughly translated to "Night Star" in reference to how he came to this world. As the little alien grew up the Elder became most intrigued by him. Mostly because he reminded him of his own grandson; full of life and possessing many gifts. However, when Morgan was no more than three years of age, he lost his grandson in a drinking and driving accident where he was killed instantly at age twenty. The Elder tapped Morgan's calf with his cane.

"You've bulked up since the last time I've visited. What have you been doing?"

Morgan tilted his head, "Um, nothing much really. Just helping out with the deck, little bit of rock climbing and some sword practise."

"Ah, that's it, your practise. I can tell, you carry yourself a little more gracefully. Like a dancer."

The alien gave an odd look, "A dancer?"

"Of course, you have been training your body to use different forms, stances, poses and fluid movements, right?"

"I suppose I have."

"There, you see," Elder Gladue chuckled, "I'll bet you would make a fine Fancy Dancer."

Morgan sat back, "That's all I've been hearing, 'would have' this and 'could have' that. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is? Wanting to do so much more, wanting to see things and be a part of society?

The Elder nodded, "Yes Morgan, I do. In fact, many of us still do. It has been a constant struggle for my people to be a part of society. True there have been some improvements, but it took over four hundred years to get to this point in our history. Of course it's not perfect, but it's a start."

Morgan's face felt hot, it was a little ignorant of him to complain like that in front of the First Nations Elder. But it did comfort him to hear he was not alone with his feelings.

"Speaking personally," continued the Elder, "I understand your feelings of being trapped and isolated. It was like that at the residential school. We were taught what to think, what to learn and believe. But even still, after learning the ways of the white people it did not matter, we were still separated from society because we were Indians."

"So how did you deal with it?"

The old man gave a warm smile, "Family _Tipiskâwatâhk_. It was my family that kept reminding me who I was and where I came from. Because they kept so strongly to their cultural roots, I was able to appreciate the person I was and the proud background I come from. Although, physically you are very different from us humans and your kind may have different ways of learning and teaching, you were still fortunate enough to be with the family you have now. It is not everyday a lost child is found by such an open minded family."

"But what if this isn't supposed to be who I am? What if I was meant to be someone else?"

"It is entirely possible, but I wouldn't have an answer for that. I do believe though you are here for a purpose, there was a reason your...spaceship crashed and you were found by this family. And always remember, _Tipiskâwatâhk_, you were the one who has shaped who you are. You chose an interest in music and you strived to perfect it. You chose to continue to spend time with your siblings, rather than distancing yourself from them. And even though you are limited to this property, you have chosen to make the most of what this land has to offer, instead of shutting yourself away. Even those alternative choices could have affected who you are and your perception of the world."

Elder Gladue leaned forward on his cane, "You have been blessed with many gifts and you do have to potential to gain more. Finding those true gifts and learning to use them, either to benefit yourself or others, will help you on the path to finding your purpose in life."

Morgan sat back in thought, absorbing the Elder's words. It seemed odd to him that he would have a purpose here; he often viewed his arrival as a very unlucky accident. But, was everything after that so unlucky? The alien was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt a cane tap his calf.

"Enough talking for now _Tipiskâwatâhk_, the food is ready and I want first pickin's at your uncle's steak."

The Elder got up with a groan and stepped down from the porch. Morgan hung back for a bit and looked at his family, then the forest, then the house. 'No,' he thought, 'not unlucky. It just...happened.' The alien set his guitar aside and took his seat at the table. After the Elder blessed the meal, Morgan settled in comfortably with his family.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Hunter spent days in meditation in the hope that some kind of answer would explain his visions. He refused to eat or drink and if anyone took a step into the room, he would give a threatening growl to drive them away. At one time he thought he had something, for a split second the image of the figure in the fire became clear. It was certainly a young blood but he appeared malformed, almost mutinous. Half his face was ooman and the other half was Yautja. His eyes were blazing with rage and hatred and they seemed to burn right through the Hunter. Then the figure lunged at him and consumed his vision with blackness and his hearing became full of animalistic roars. Since then he had been trying to get the vision to come back but all he saw were shadows and greyness.

Suddenly he felt a presence enter the room and without turning he made a low growl. But the presence only moved closer to him and he became very irritated.

"If you value your neck, leave before I break it!" the Hunter snarled.

"I would like to see you try," answered the presence in a loud, powerful tone.

The Hunter's eyes widened and he whirled around to see the female Elder standing right behind him. The male struggled to get into a submissive position but because he had been sitting cross legged for so long, his muscles were numb and unresponsive. He looked like a clumsy unblood as he tried to untie his legs, but he finally got to one knee and lowered his head.

This female Elder was one of the tallest he had ever served under, towering close to ten feet. It was not the brightly polished, silver battle armour she wore that displayed her importance, it was not the aged look on her elegant, creamy brown face, nor the detailed orange and red watery markings that streaked horizontally over her crest or the many, deep jagged battle scars that lined her thighs, abdomen and shoulders; the strings of beads and gold rings in her long, ebony dread locks did not show her significance and neither did her crimson cloak that bore her clan's symbol. The Elder's status and authority was shown by the way she presented herself; her head carried high, her body strong and muscular and her vibrant, maize coloured eyes that looked as if they had seen many long and glorious battles. Those eyes demanded the up most respect and if it was not properly given, a swift and brutal punishment would follow.

"Forgive me Elder, I did not know it was you."

"I could have you gutted for your insolence, but you are fortunate that I am in a curious mood."

Even though the Hunter's legs and back was throbbing painfully, he did not move from his spot.

"To what do I owe this honour?"

"You have always been a solitary male, but even I have noticed your absence on this ship. The other warriors told me you have kept yourself in the mediation room for many days without food or water. So either you have suddenly decided to become a prophet or something occurred during your hunt that requires you to seek Paya's advice. Which is it?"

It would have been extremely unwise and downright stupid to lie to the seasoned, female Elder. The Hunter shook his head.

"Nothing happened on my hunt Elder. It was a good one, the prey was excellent and I have trophies worth honouring. But since the hunt my mind has been plagued with visions."

"What sort of visions?"

"Shadows, mostly of trees and fire, and I always see a distorted figure at the end of the vision. It made no sense to me, so I had hoped meditation would help."

"And has it?"

The Hunter shook his head again, not daring to look up, "No, Elder."

The Elder was not sure what to make of his story. This was not the first time one of her subordinates had experienced such visions and she never took them seriously enough to feel there was a problem. But this situation felt different somehow. She thought he would be the last male to have any sort of vision, but he was also the last male to be unfaithful or deceiving. For a long time the room was very quiet, the Hunter remained bowed and unmoving. The Elder nodded.

"If there is no more for you to say, then I will leave you to continue your vision quest."

She turned to leave, her cloak whirling around her sandaled feet.

"Elder, I humbly ask for a request."

She turned back around, already assuming what he was going to ask. Asking for help was very hard for the Hunter to do, however he felt there was no other way.

"I do not believe I am going to find answers through more mediation. I need to go back to the planet Earth and find the answers to Paya's message."

The Elder folded her large arms, "You do realise other warriors have hunting missions to complete. I cannot just disregard their requests because of one warrior's vision."

The Hunter hissed with irritation, he knew it was true.

"If you still wish to return to Earth, you may only do so only after the other warriors have earned their trophies and after we resupply. It will be many months until we can return to this system."

The submissive male was shaking, trying to contain his anger but what could he do? It was the best she could offer and most other Elders would not have even bothered to give one to a lower ranking member. He bowed lower to the female.

"I thank you Elder. I shall patiently wait for my return to Earth."

She nodded, "Now go, get something to eat. And take a bath."

It was meant to be funny, but the Hunter did not appear amused. She left the room and chuckled to herself, maybe she was crazy to grant him permission to go back but she was more curious than doubtful of the outcome. A loner such as him does not suddenly have a change of routine after one hunt. Whatever he was searching for, she wanted to be there to see what he would find.

_ Another chapter finished. Things are going to get even more interesting with the Hunter and Morgan in the future. It's always an awful feeling to leave you fans hanging for so long, but it just keeps me wanting to write more for you. Thank you all again for being so patient._


	11. Secrets

_Seven years of university are done, I've finally convocated, now comes the job search. Ain't life grand? Let's get the next chapter rollin'… _

As time went on, it seemed the Windigo had disappeared and the citizens of Twin Lake were beginning to calm down. Eventually the RCMP discontinued the search for the murder of the north, having found no other evidence or suspects. But they encouraged the citizens to watch for anything out of the ordinary in the hopes of breaking the case.

In the last week of July, several towns held memorial services to honour the murder victims and their families. Rumours of Bernard Mackenzie's whereabouts had quickly stopped when he was released from the city jail, free of all charges. Uncle Danny attended Laurence's funeral and told the family Bernard gave a very emotional eulogy. When they asked how Bernard was handling himself, Uncle Danny gave a concerned look, saying even though the young teen put on a brave face, he could tell he was still disturbed by what he saw.

The Killer Windigo had made many headlines all over the country and the publicity had both positive and negative results. It opened doors to those who wanted to help the people of the north, but it also invaded the privacy of the once quiet towns and the victims' families. Many communities were still wary about the wilderness, unsure if Windigo lurked in the shadows.

Even though Morgan knew he would have to wait another time to go on the hunting trip with his uncle, any mention of the Windigo would rekindle his disappointment. Morgan tried to keep himself active as much as possible. He would work around the house or spend time with Nicki to help with his plane projects. He tried walking through the woods around the property, often spending hours climbing rock faces and trees. Sometimes Morgan spent a few nights near the lake to make it seem like he was on his promised hunting trip. He made a shelter for himself by roping dead branches together and covering them with boughs of pine branches, then he dug out the floor to make it flat and covered it with soft, green moss. He gathered rocks and made a small fire pit, taking care to remove any dry debris that could catch fire. It was a nice refuge for him and Morgan felt very content. But then one day his youngest brother started following him to his shelter and he begged Morgan to build another one.

"Garret, you can make one for yourself," Morgan said.

"I can't make them like you can."

"Well, now is a good time to start."

Morgan supervised Garret's building, teaching him how to tie a secure knot and how to interlock the branches so they were stable. Although Garret's shelter was a little lopsided, his older brother congratulated him for his outdoor build. It reminded Morgan of how he and Nicki spent time together when he was younger and decided he would do the same for Garret. He took his brother out whenever possible, teaching him the same skills as Nicki did. The two brothers bonded very well and it had given Morgan a sense of pride and accomplishment he had not in a long time. But the feeling was short lived, when leaves began to change, the weather became colder and school started.

The alien found it even more challenging to keep himself occupied during autumn months while his siblings were away. Normally, he would put his time and effort into his piano and guitar, but he did not feel motivated enough to play. Then, two weeks before the first snow fall, Morgan did something he never thought he would do. He decided to venture off of the property and into the edge of town. The last time he saw the town was when he was younger and his father had shown him through the cover of trees. He had told Morgan never to go beyond that point, and that was where Morgan decided to start his adventure.

At first, the alien spent a few minutes hidden in the trees, observing the road, then move to another spot. As time went on, he would remain longer at his post, watching the town, looking at the buildings, watching the people, learning their movements. At night, he would lie on his bed and stare at the ceiling, analyzing and carefully planning his next moves. After a week of planning, he felt confident enough to venture right into town. Morgan decided to go at dusk, when the road was clear and most of the town's people were inside eating supper. The alien made sure to wear his darkest, free moving clothing so he would not been seen. He scurried across the road, keeping low to the ground, vaulted over a chain link fence, and climbed up a two story building. Morgan perched himself near the edge like a hawk searching for mouse. A sensation started to build up in his chest, it was hard for him to describe, he felt…exhilarated! He never had such an overwhelming, pleasurable feeling. Morgan wanted to experience that feeling even more and continually went into town during the night, trying different vantage points to observe the town and its residences.

Jack and Annie knew something odd was going on with their adopted son. It was a surprise to the family that Morgan wanted to go out in the evening. "To my shelter" he would always say, "I want to stay out there as much as possible before it snows." Morgan never usually lied, so his parents had no reason not to trust him. The alien thought he would get away with his adventuring, until the evening before the first snowfall. He was hiding near a café, trying to figure a way to get to the roof, when the door to the back suddenly swung open and one of the cooks walked outside for a break. Morgan panicked and leapt behind some garbage bins, praying he was not seen, but the cook started shouting.

"Damn kids! Ain't yah got nothin' better ta do?"

He could hear the footsteps getting closer, Morgan's heart began to pound faster against his chest as he frantically searched for a way out. The alien picked up a rock and lobbed it towards a wooden fence. The loud clunk caused the cook to turn away. Morgan took the opportunity and ran around the building.

"Hey!" the cook yelled.

He could hear the cook behind him and Morgan ran faster. He dashed across the street, narrowly avoiding a car and down an unlit street. The young Yautja glanced over his shoulder to see that the cook had stopped giving chase, but he could just see the look of terror in his eyes before bolting back into the café. Morgan cursed under his breath and headed towards a clothing store he frequently used as a perch and climbed up to the roof. From there he leapt into a cluster of birch trees and navigated his way through the tree tops until he stopped to catch his breath. Morgan looked back, shocked to see how far the town lights were. He remained in the trees as he continued to make his way home, the reality of his sighting slowly sinking in.

Morgan arrived at the house without incident and went straight to his room, trying to deny what happened, but without success. He knew he was in trouble and he knew the sighting was going to go public. His fears were confirmed next morning, when the news announced that a large figure, possibly the Windigo, had been spotted near a café at Twin Lake and the RCMP were brought in to investigate. The family quickly put everything together and Morgan got an earful from his parents.

"Is that what you've been doing for the last two weeks?!"

"Do you realize what would have happened if you were caught?!"

"I can't believe you would do something this stupid!"

"What else have you been lying about?!"

Their son apologized profusely and promised never to leave the property. Although Jack and Annie could see that he had been frightened by the experience, he was still told to stay inside the house and was given an extra list of chores to do. Luck was still on Morgan's side, the RCMP announced they were not able to pick up the "large man's" trail, which caused an outrage and the worry that Windigo was back.

During the autumn and winter, Morgan stayed true to his promise and remained inside the house, however the cold weather helped a lot. But he found himself wanting to feel that sensation again, that exhilaration he got when he was prowling around town. He was playing his piano when he got an idea. He remembered looking up videos of musicians playing the piano in to get inspired or learn new songs. At first, the alien was not sure if he could get away with it, but after thinking about it, he technically was not breaking the rules. Morgan created an online account, calling himself _The Ivory Fingers_ and began to create his first video.

The young Yautja went through many tests before he was satisfied. First, he used black and white gloves to cover his hands and focused the camera on the piano, but found that no matter what angle he used, his arms would show. He fixed that by wearing a black, long sleeved shirt. Morgan continued to review his test videos and soon found another problem: even with the gloves on it was obvious he had talons. As much as he did not want to, he filed them down to his finger tips. Although the gloves prevented him from feeling the keys, after some practice he felt more comfortable.

Morgan was nervous when he posted the first few videos. He was not sure if anyone would take the time to view them, but after a few days he was shocked to see several hits on his videos as well as comments from viewers who enjoyed his music. The familiar, euphoric feeling came back and the alien began his new project, this time taking care to keep his secret. All through the winter months, Morgan created and posted several videos of classical pieces from famous composers, ballads from familiar movies or TV shows and a few of his original works. His internet secret was much easier to keep and since he was early riser, he would upload his videos in the morning before anyone got up.

Spring came to the north very quickly and just like the previous year it was hot and dry. Morgan's mood had improved substantially, he did not appear stressed and seemed more easy going. The family assumed the change in the seasons brought the change in mood and they were relieved to see him relax.

Morgan was outside helping his mother clear away the garden when he heard his sister call from the upstairs window.

"Hey, Red!"

"Yeah?"

"I need your help for my music test."

Morgan looked at his mother for permission and she gave a nod. He ran up the stairs, kicked off his outerwear and headed for the music room. Lindsay was already in the music room with her flute.

"So how many times have we done this already?"

"Not enough, I still think I can get a higher mark."

She set up her sheet music, which was almost covered with pencil marks and highlighter.

"Didn't you say your band teacher was an easy marker?" asked Morgan as he took a seat near his piano.

"Well yeah, but I want to make sure I get that music scholarship."

Morgan's stomach tightened, he did not like thinking about the day that Lindsay would leave for university, but he was excited about his sister wanting to earn a Masters in Music. He cracked his knuckles and set them on the keys.

"So, a quick warm – up?"

Lindsay nodded and put her flute to her lips. Both of them went through all the major and minor scales, starting from the lowest note on the flute and making their way to the highest. Once they were finished, Morgan then played different chords, while Lindsay identified which scale they belonged too.

"C, B flat, E natural, D flat—"

"G flat," corrected Morgan.

"Damnit!" cursed Lindsay, "why do I mix those up?"

"Don't be so hard on yourself. I really doubt your band teacher would throw a fit over the hardest scales. Really, how many other players are going to know these as well as you do?"

Lindsay sighed, "Alright, fine."

"Maybe we can take a break from scales. Let's move on to that piece you need to play."

The red haired teen nodded and took out her the sheet music for _English Folk Song Suite_ by Ralph Vaughan Williams. It was an old piece from the previous semester and one of her favourite songs. Even though Morgan did not have sheet music for the piece, he played the flute notes with simple piano chords to help his sister's timing and speed. By the time they were finished, it was close to supper.

"There, feel better?" asked Morgan.

"Much," replied Lindsay, "thanks Red, I appreciate it."

"Anytime."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

There were only two months left until summer break and many of the high school students were feeling the pressure in getting their final projects done. Santana and Lindsay were in the school library gathering books for their research paper on genetics and evolution, when Zack waved them over.

"Come here, I have something to show you."

The teens walked over to the computer he was using and watched with curiosity.

"My aunt sent me a link about a piano player. I'm not much for this type of music, but this guy has some mad skills. I figured being 'band geeks', you guys might like it."

Lindsay raised her eyebrow, "Being 'band geeks' didn't stop you from hitting on our trombone player."

Zack grinned, "I didn't say being a band geek was a bad thing."

"Of course not," chimed Santana, "geeks attract geeks, why do you think the human race is still thriving?"

Zack and Lindsay chuckled softly as the link loaded. A video popped up on the screen and Lindsay nearly dropped her books. She saw black and white gloved hands, which appeared very large for the piano, play one of Morgan's original songs. She looked at Santana in shock and felt a ball of panic build in her stomach. Thankfully Santana did not say anything, but she had an idea of what was going on.

"See what I mean?" asked Zack, "look at how fast his fingers are going, this video has practically gone viral."

It took a lot of concentration for Lindsay to stay calm, but she managed to watch the entire video without much reaction. She thanked Zack, checked out her books and made a B-line for her locker with Santana behind her. Lindsay was now furious as she stuffed her books into her backpack.

"That idiot! What does he think he's doing?!"

"Expressing himself?" offered Santana.

Lindsay glared.

"Oh calm down, Lindsay. You have to admit this was pretty creative."

"That's not the point!" Lindsay hissed.

"Then what is the point? You shouldn't be surprised he would do something like this, I'm shocked it didn't happen sooner. Morgan's been cooped up in that house for eighteen years and sooner or later he was going to find away to make himself known."

Lindsay was about to say something, but she stopped and leaned against her locker, thinking.

"At least he's not sneaking into town and hiding behind cafés," continued Santana, "No one will know who he really is."

Sometimes Lindsay was grateful for her friend's wisdom. She pulled out her backpack, closed her locker and nodded.

"Yeah, you're right," Lindsay said.

"I'm always right," Santana said with a grin.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It was close to five by the time young teens left the school. The air was dry, but warm and the sun was just lowering behind the tree-line, causing the sky to turn from watery-blue to bright orange-pink. Lindsay dropped off Santana before heading home. She parked the quad in the garage and slowly opened the door so it would not creak. When she walked in, she could hear Morgan's piano echo from the music room. 'Perfect timing,' she thought. Morgan would be too focused in his music to notice she was home. Lindsay looked around for her parents when she saw a note on the fridge left by her mother: _Gone grocery shopping_. The red-head sighed and went on a hunt to find Nicki. She found him in Garret's room, helping him with school work.

"Hey, Nicki," she said, "can I talk to you?"

"Sure Linds," he said. He pointed at Garret's paper, "finish these two questions, I'll be right back."

He got up and followed Lindsay down the stairs, out of Garret's earshot.

"I just found something out," said Lindsay, "I don't want you to panic, but Morgan's been recording his piano playing and uploading it onto the internet."

Nicki's expression did not change, "I know."

Lindsay's eyes widened in surprise, "You know? How do you know?"

"Garret told me. He said he caught Morgan with the video camera and not long after that, his music teacher showed the class a video clip of The Ivory Fingers. How did you find out?"

"Zack showed me," Lindsay shook her head, "he told a few of his videos had gone viral. Do mom and dad know?"

The young man shrugged, "I can't say for sure."

His sister had a worried look, "Should…should we try to stop him?"

"No," said Nicki, "if stop him, he'll just find another way to continue."

"So, we just keep this to ourselves and hope Morgan isn't given a music contract?"

"I really doubt that'll happen," chuckled Nicki, "he's not the only pianist on the web. But now that the three of us know, I don't think we should keep it to ourselves. And, I think something else should be readdressed."

"Like what?"

There was a pause.

"The hunting trip."

Lindsay had to make sure her brother was serious.

"Nicki, after what happened last fall, you think it's a good idea for Morgan to go on a trip?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Everyone's still on edge Nicki, he almost got caught once. What if he's caught again?"

"That possibility was always there Linds."

His sister frowned, "That was before four people were mutilated and strung up in the forest!"

"I wish there was another way, I really do. You've seen the way Morgan has acted this year, he's more stressed and frustrated. He tells us nothing's bothering him, but we know better, right?"

Lindsay slumped her shoulders and crossed her arms. She tried to think of another solution, but nothing else came to mind.

"Alright," she said in defeat, "hopefully mom and dad won't freak."

"I don't think it'll be that bad. What's the worst they could do?"

Lindsay snorted, "Take away his instruments."

"They won't do that, will they?" asked a small, concerned voice.

The older siblings turned to see Garret laying on the top of the stairs with his head poking over the step. It was obvious he heard everything.

"Naw Shorty," Nicki replied with a comforting smile.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Later that evening, the children showed their parents Morgan's videos and Nicki gave his suggestions of what could be done. Surprisingly they reacted quite calmly to it.

"I've made my decision, what about you?" asked Jack.

Annie sighed and looked at her husband, "I still don't think it's a good idea."

"But it'll have to do."

Annie ruffled her graying hair nervously and was silent for a while. She glanced at her children.

"You three go downstairs, we're going to speak to Morgan."

Once they were in the basement room, Jack and Annie went into the living room and sat down.

"Morgan," called Jack.

"Yeah dad?" said Morgan from the music room.

"Can you come here for a minute?"

"Uh…wait a sec."

Morgan shut off the camera and hid it behind the piano before stepping out into the living room. He stopped and stared at his mother and father, they looked like they were prepared to do an intervention.

"What's going on?" Morgan asked wearily.

"Sit here Morgan," his father answered, motioning to the cushioned chair.

The alien hesitated but he sat down. He looked over the faces of his human parents, feeling a nervous cramp form in his stomach.

"It's alright Morgan, you're not in trouble. You can relax," said his mother.

He relaxed slightly, but did not let his guard down, "Last time this happened, you were yelling about my visit to town."

"We know," said his father, "but this is something else. We want to talk about your music uploads on the web."

Morgan's jaw dropped, "Who…how…?"

"Your brothers and sister told us. Garret saw a video in his music class and told Nicki. This afternoon, Lindsay's friend Zack showed her one. We found out about it only recently," explained Annie.

Morgan felt very angry that his siblings told his parents before speaking to him. At least he would have had a chance to explain himself before swearing them to secrecy.

"How long have you been uploading videos?" asked Jack.

Morgan looked down and fiddled with his hands, "I don't know, since Christmas."

There was an uncomfortable silence, he could feel the disappointment radiating from his folks.

"I'll bet it feels pretty good, eh?" asked his father, "sharing your talent to the world through the web?"

"Well, yeah," Morgan answered, "it makes me feel special to be a part of something."

"Is that all you are doing?" asked Annie, "just uploading videos of your hands on the piano? Nothing shows your face?"

The alien shook his head, "No mom, I swear! I never show my face."

His mother nodded, "We believe you Morgan, but we would like you to stop making these videos for a while."

Morgan flopped back on the chair and hissed, "Of course I have to stop! Maybe I should just stop doing anything!"

"Morgan—" said Jack.

"This isn't fair! 'Morgan, you can't do this, Morgan you have to stay here, Morgan you need to hide.' I'm sick and tired of hiding! What else am I suppose to do, sit quietly while everyone else gets to come and go when they want? Bullshit! I can't stand staying in this goddamn house any longer! I want to leave! I WANT TO GET OUT OF HERE!"

The alien's voice was so loud it caused the walls to vibrate. It was rare for Morgan to lose his temper, but the parents knew he had been bottling up those feelings for a long time and they were relieved to finally hear them – despite the ringing in their ears.

"Feel better?" asked Jack.

The alien slumped back into the chair and gave a dangerous growl, "No. Why should I feel better?"

"Morgan, that's enough," said Annie in a stern voice.

He gave his mother a glare, but she stared him down.

"Sit up!"

Her son reluctantly obeyed.

"We understand you're upset," she continued, "and we know it wasn't fair to keep you in the house all the time. But you do understand that we made these to keep you safe, right?"

Morgan grunted a "yes", not making eye contact.

"Your father and I love you Morgan and we don't want anything to happen to you. We thank you for keeping your promise to stay in the house and I'm sure making those videos made it easier to deal with. But despite that, we know you need to get out. So, as much as I don't like it, you're father and I have been thinking that Uncle Danny should take you on the hunting trip he promised you last year."

Morgan rolled his eyes, "Where, on the property?"

"Don't be a smartass," grumbled Jack, "he'll take you to one of his hunting spots."

Morgan's eyes widened, he stared in disbelief, "You're…serious?"

"I am," said his father, "but if you're going to be rude about it, then maybe—"

The alien leapt to his feet, "No, no! Please, I'm sorry! I want to go! I really want to go!"

Annie gave a small smile, seeing the enthusiasm come from her son, "Just remember Morgan, we still need to talk to Uncle Danny. He'll be the one to decide when and where to go. So until then, no more videos, understand?"

Morgan was beaming, "Yes, I understand. Thank – you! Thank – you so much!"

He wrapped one arm around each parent and gave them such a strong hug, that the two of them were lifted off the ground. Jack and Annie laughed and hugged their adopted son, enjoying the excitement that radiated from him. It had been a long time since they saw Morgan this happy.

_Isn't the internet a great escape for humans and aliens alike? Makes you wonder if aliens read or write fan fiction, hmmm… Anyway, thanks again for your patience and comments._


End file.
